


Recovery

by grey853



Series: Bygones [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Rape Recovery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 137,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Fraser recovers from a serious gunshot wound, Ray wrestles with his own demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final book in the four part Bygones Saga.

* * *

**Bygones 4  
Recovery  
** by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Bygones%204%20Recovery)

* * *

__

 

* * *

Part One

Late Summer in Yellowknife, Canada

* * *

"I feel like an old man."  
  
Turning from the window, arms crossed, Ray eyed his partner lying in the hospital bed, his face still ashen, his features drawn. "You've got a bullet hole through your chest, Ben. You're going to feel like shit for a while. Go figure."

Ben didn't respond or argue with that, just shifted in the bed, using his right hand on the metal rail and both legs braced to change position. Ray stepped over to help, but Ben shook his head. "Don't. I can do it."  
  
"Ben "  
  
"I have to do this myself. It's the only way to get stronger."  
  
"Stubborn bastard."  
  
"Stubborn, perhaps, bastard, no. My father wouldn't take kindly to that aspersion if he were here." The words were accented with huffs and puffs and dotted with a groan.

"You're right. Sorry." Ray swallowed hard, his jaw clenched tightly as he watched the man he loved struggle to sit up. Even the simplest movements wore Ben out, made him all winded and breathy. He had a long way to go to get healthy again, but Ray knew he could do it. It just hurt like hell to watch.

More comfortable, Ben let his head fall back, sweat shining on his brow. Eyes closed, he repeated himself as he gasped for air. "Dear god, Ray, I feel like an old man."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Ray patted Ben's arm and used a damp cloth to cool his forehead. "You want some water, maybe some juice?"  
  
"Water, please."

Ray poured some ice water into the small plastic tumbler and got a fresh straw. He held the cup out and let Ben take it. The hand shook, but Ray pretended not to notice. "Look, you just have to be patient, okay? You've come a long way, but you're not there yet. The doctor told you it'd take time."  
  
"It's been nearly a month."  
  
It'd been the longest month of Ray's life, but even longer for Ben as his body took its own sweet time healing from the bullet wound complicated by pneumonia. "I know, but you're better and that all that matters."  
  
Ben handed him the water and Ray put it on the side table. "And you've been here the whole time."  
  
"Not the whole time. I take breaks."  
  
"Not many. Not nearly enough."  
  
"Don't start."  
  
"I won't." Ben reached out and took Ray's hand in his right one. "I can't tell you how much it means to me that you've been here."  
  
"Where else would I be?"  
  
"Anywhere but here."  
  
Ray's voice softened, knowing how hard it was for Ben to be dependent. "Don't be dumb, okay?" Ray petted back Ben's dark hair, smiling, his voice soft. "You're going to beat this thing, get that old Mountie pep back in no time."  
  
"Mountie pep?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, that whole get up and go, up and at 'em, I'm the Mountie who can't be beat pep thing."

Ben's eyes twinkled despite the heavy drugs in his system. "Oh, **that** Mountie pep. I'd forgotten."  
  
"I haven't." Ray teased, "I can't wait until you're back on your feet again, dragging me through the woods, doing body checks for ticks and shit. It'll be fun, just like old times. Just wait and see."  
  
Ben squeezed his hand, still pale as shit, but smiling weakly. "Yes, it will be."  
  
"You just have to give yourself time. It took me months to get going again after I got shot in that warehouse business way back when and that wasn't nearly as bad as this. Plus, the fucking pneumonia set you back. Hell, you're lucky to still be breathing."

Serious again, Ben nodded and turned his head away, staring out toward the window. "I'm well aware that I'm lucky, Ray, but I'm afraid I'm not very patient."  
  
"Believe me, I know how hard it is to want things to get better fast, to rush the whole thing so you don't have to think about stuff. But you're making progress, Ben. That's the important thing."  
  
"I know."  
  
After a few moments of strained silence, Ray changed the subject. "Hey, I saw Dief this morning."  
  
Ben turned his head back in Ray's direction. "Here?" 

Still pissed that the hospital wouldn't budge on allowing the wolf inside the building to see Ben, Ray shook his head. "I wish. No, at the house." 

"Now, Ray, you know it's the rules."  
  
"Fuck the rules. Dief's not a health hazard. Bet he's cleaner than some of these people who traipse in and out all day."  
  
"That might well be, but "  
  
"Anyway, he was fine. Jeremy's taking really good care of him. They get along like gangbusters."  
  
"That's good then."  
  
Ray leaned in closer, his eyes crinkled as he smiled. "And guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dief's going to be a daddy."  
  
Ben's eyes widened a little. "A daddy?"

Ray chuckled, wishing he'd seen the whole thing instead of just hearing his friend Cal tell the story. "Seems like Cal's husky, Lucy, was in heat. He had her penned up, you know, to be safe, but when Jeremy showed up to see one of his kids, he didn't keep a lookout. Dief finagled his way inside the run and had a really good first date."  
  
"Oh, dear."  
  
Ray waved it off. "Don't worry about it. Guess you can take the wolf out of the city, but you can't take the dog out of the wolf."

"So it would seem."

"Besides, Cal's okay with it. Even said that Jeremy could have one of the pups if it was okay with Mimi, which it is now that she knows he can be responsible. So, when the pups are born, probably at the end of September, Jeremy gets first pick. Maybe then we can have our wolf back all to ourselves, huh?"  
  
"I certainly hope I'm released by then."  
  
Ray heard the worry, the slight doubt in Ben's voice, and batted it down in a hurry. "You will be. Doc Egan said you might go to rehab this week, next week at the latest. Then another couple of weeks and you'll be home, doing the PT as an outpatient."

"Best scenario, yes."  
  
"That's the only kind of scenario we're going for."  
  
"Ray, I think we should be prepared for a much longer convalescence."  
  
"If it's longer, fine, but no reason to think it will be. You're doing great."  
  
"Hardly."  
  
"Ben "  
  
"I'm not doing **great** , Ray. I'm not even walking on my own yet and I can barely use my left hand or move my arm. That's not **great** by any stretch of the imagination."  
  
Ray took a deep breath, kept his own testiness in check. "Okay, listen, I know you're discouraged "  
  
"I don't mean to be, but "  
  
"I know, I know. It's scary. All this negative talk, that's just fear talking."  
  
Ben met his gaze and nodded, all his irritation gone. "I'll never be able to serve with one arm, Ray."  
  
The words hurt, but Ray said them anyway. "You could work a desk."  
  
"You know that's not what I want."  
  
"I know that, but sometimes "  
  
"Sometimes what? We have to compromise? Accept less? I don't know if I'm quite prepared to do that."  
  
Ray studied the tight lines, the haggard features before he finally spoke. "You'll play the cards you're dealt, Ben. That's all you can do, that's all anybody can do, but you can't fold, not when you haven't seen the hole cards yet."  
  
"Hole cards?"  
  
"Yeah, the ones that haven't been turned over. Right now you've got a bum hand "  
  
"So to speak."  
  
"I wasn't talking about your **hand** hand. I was talking metawhatsis." Ray snapped his fingers and touched his temple as he tried to think of the right word. The more tired he was, the harder it was to think sometimes, to make his brain work like he wasn't stupid. "You know, you know, when you say something that means something else."  
  
"Metaphorically?"  
  
"Yeah, that's it. I meant a bum hand as in the cards you're showing. Right now, it looks like you might lose, but who knows? You turn over a couple of aces and you've got a winning hand and rake in a whole pot of air."  
  
Ben stared at him a couple of extra heartbeats and then smiled just a little bit, not really a big smile, but big enough to count for something. "If I remember correctly, you still owe me a bit of air from the last hand we played."  
  
Ray grinned and shook his head. "No way. I've paid that back a ton of times already."  
  
"Oh, I don't think so, Ray. I'm quite sure if you check the tally sheet, you still owe quite a bit. After all, there's interest to consider."  
  
"Interest, huh? You saying you're interested in collecting?"  
  
"Indeed I am. I want you to honor your debts."

"So what are you thinking? You want to collect part of the debt right here and now?"  
  
"If you wouldn't mind."  
  
Ray lowered the metal rail on the right side of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, speaking softly. "See. You're all better. A sick guy wouldn't bother to collect old debts."

"I'm never too sick to collect from you, Ray."  
  
Kissing Ben, exploring that sweet mouth with his tongue, made the worry loosen its grip on Ray's heart, at least for the moment. No way would Ray ever lose the man who owned every part of him that mattered.

* * *

Stevie Garvey waltzed into the room, all smiles, not able to stand still even when he talked. "It's done, Constable, every nail, every timber in place. I dont like to brag, but it's a hell of a job. Turned out perfect, just like you wanted. I can't wait until you're well enough to see it for yourself."  
  
Ray sat by the bed as emotions played across his partner's face. Ben hid his physical pain pretty well, except in the eyes. A blind guy could see the hurt a mile a way. Ben licked his lips to muster up his voice. "I appreciate that, Stevie. I'm sure it's a wonderful job."  
  
"You don't have to take my word for it. I've got pictures."  
  
Standing up, Ray came over to look at the photos Stevie proudly handed to Ben. They weren't the best quality, a little over-exposed, but they sure backed up what Stevie said. The place looked great, with the logs on the new extension matching the existing ones perfectly. If he didnt know better, Ray would've thought the whole place had been there a hundred years just as the original cabin had been. There was also a new windmill several hundred feet away, and at the back of the cabin to provide some of the power. Plus, the porch had a roof and there was a new woodshed along with an outbuilding about the size of a two-car garage made of the same logs not far from the main cabin. Ben smiled, obviously pleased. "This is wonderful, Stevie. You've worked very hard."  
  
"That's not all. Keep going."  
  
As Ben went through the pictures, he came to shots of the inside, checking the layout that now included a new bathroom and bedroom. His weak smile widened. "It's remarkable how much you were able to accomplish in such a short time."  
  
"I'm sorry it ran over a few days even with an extra crew, but I promised to have it ready for you, and it is. Ray can move the furniture in anytime."

Ray shook his head, not really wanting to even see the place without Ben. "I can wait."  
  
Ben didn't agree. "No, Ray, you should at least return the furniture. You could ask Chris and Eddie to help."  
  
Hesitating, Ray recognized the strained politeness in his partner's voice and got the picture. "You're pretty sick of me hanging around all day, huh?"  
  
"I'm not sick of you, Ray, never that. However "  
  
"However, what? You saying I'm getting on your nerves?"  
  
"No, Ray, I'm just saying "  
  
Holding up a hand, Ray shook his head. "It's okay. You're right. I should move the stuff back in, but I'm not moving in to stay until you're well enough to stay with me. Got it?"  
  
"It wouldn't bother me if you moved back in, Ray. I'd understand. It's our home, and "  
  
"I'm not doing it, so shut up."  
  
"There's no reason to be obstinate about this, Ray."

"I'll be as obstiwhatever as I want. When you're ready to go, then we'll go, not a minute before. Get that through your thick skull, okay?"

Reluctantly, Ben nodded, "Understood."  
  
Stevie Garvey watched the whole exchange, not smiling, unsure of what to do or say. Ray saw the confusion and explained. "Don't worry. We do this all the time. It's called being married."

Ben snorted. "By that definition, we've been married since the first day we met."  
  
Ray smiled and had to agree. "Yeah, we've been bickering since day one. Wonder why that is?"  
  
"I try not to examine the dynamic too closely, Ray."  
  
Thumbing his nose in understanding, Ray grinned. "Yeah, whatever works, you don't want to jinx it. Got it."

Stevie shook his head, amused. "You guys are weird together." Before Ray jumped in to defend their relationship, the boy added, "But weird in a good way." He motioned at the pictures that Ben held. "Keep those. I've got another set."  
  
Ben held the pictures to his chest. "Thank you. I appreciate all you've done for us."  
  
"We'll do a walk through when you're able."  
  
Not sure what that meant, Ray asked, "Walk through?"  
  
"Yeah, you two go through and make sure everything's just what you want, new electric, test the plumbing, whatever. I'll fix whatever needs changing. I never close out a project completely until the people have had a chance to check it all out."  
  
"Ray could do that."  
  
Stevie shook his head. "I do a job, I want everyone involved to sign off, Constable. Sure, Ray can go through it, but bottom line, I want to make sure it suits you, too."

"He's right, Ben. You drew up the plans. You're the one who knows what it should be, not me."  
  
Ben didn't look up, just stared down at the pictures now in his lap. "That could be a while."  
  
Stevie stole a worried glance over at Ray, but Ray kept his eyes on Ben, his voice suddenly softer. "It'll be sooner than you think. Just wait and see."  
  
When Ben closed his eyes and didn't answer, Stevie cleared his throat, suddenly uneasy. He motioned toward the door. "You're tired. Guess I should go, eh?"  
  
Eyes still shut, Ben whispered, "Thank you for coming."  
  
"Sure. Anytime."  
  
Stevie looked up at Ray. "You need anything before I go?"  
  
"No, we're good. Thanks."  
  
"No problem." 

When he just stood there and didn't leave, Ray asked, "You need something else?"  
  
"Could you walk me to the elevator?"  
  
Frowning, not sure what the kid really wanted, Ray shrugged. "Sure, okay." He patted Ben's shoulder. "I'll be back in a minute."  
  
"Take your time. I'm tired. I think I'll try to nap a while."  
  
"Sleep tight." Ray dipped his head and kissed Ben's forehead, anxious about leaving Ben even briefly.  
  
Once outside, Stevie touched Ray's arm. "Is he okay, I mean, really okay?"  
  
Annoyed at the stupid question, Ray snapped, "He was shot and almost died. How would you be?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I just meant "  
  
"Don't worry about it. I know what you meant." Ray shook his head, ashamed of losing his temper, especially with the kid. He rubbed his face with both hands, achy and worn to a frazzle. Hospitals and all the shit that came with them sucked. He hated this shit, hated what it did to him and what it was doing to Ben. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just tired, that's all."

"I can see that. Maybe you should go home and get some rest, have someone else stay with him for a little while."  
  
"Not going to happen."  
  
"Ray, don't take this the wrong way, but he's not doing so good "  
  
"No shit."  
  
"It's just I've never seen him like this."  
  
"Well, you get shot and let me know how well you take it."  
  
"I didn't mean to make you mad."  
  
"I'm not mad."  
  
"You sound mad."  
  
Ray stood up straighter, wrapping his arms around his chest. "I'm not mad, at least not at you."  
  
The young man scratched his head and then sighed heavily. "Want to get some coffee?"  
  
"No, I need to get back inside."  
  
The kid wouldn't take no for an answer. "He's sleeping and you need a break. Come on. You won't be gone long, I promise."

Hesitating, Ray glanced at the door, thinking Ben probably needed a break, too. "Sure, okay. I could do coffee."  
  
"Good. I'll buy."  
  
"You don't have to do that."  
  
"I know. I want to."  
  
Neither man said anything else until they got to the cafeteria doorway. Stevie asked, "When was the last time you ate?"  
  
"Mimi brought some soup last night."  
  
"You eat any?"  
  
Ray shook his head. "I wasn't hungry."  
  
"How about some eggs then, or a doughnut?"  
  
As they got in line, Ray shook his head. "Just coffee."  
  
Stevie didn't say anything else, just got a couple of chocolate doughnuts on a plate and some coffee. Once they sat down, Ray doctored his drink with some sugar. Bitter as it was, it tasted better than the stuff up on the floor. Head throbbing, he took a couple of aspirin, washing them down with more coffee. Rubbing his forehead, he asked, "So, you got another job lined up?"  
  
"I've got more jobs than I can handle. I'm thinking about taking on a partner."  
  
"A partner, huh? Expanding the business already?"  
  
Stevie met his eyes, his back straighter, defensive. "I can handle it."  
  
"Nobody said you couldn't."  
  
"Yeah, well, some people think I'm too young to have my own business."  
  
"Some people are idiots even up here in Canada. Get used to it. You do good work. No reason you can't take on a partner if that's what you want."

"That's what I was thinking, too." Stevie pushed the plate with the chocolate doughnuts into the middle of the table. "You should eat, keep your strength up."  
  
Ray gave in, picked up one of the treats, and ate a bite. It wasnt bad, especially when he washed it down with the strong coffee. "Thanks."  
  
They sat quietly for a couple of minutes before Stevie spoke again. "He should talk to somebody."  
  
"He talks to me."  
  
"I mean a doctor, a shrink maybe."  
  
Putting his cup down, Ray looked up, ready to fight, but stalled. The young man's worried face cancelled out his anger. "He'll be okay."  
  
"My mom was sick a long time. She got down sometimes, depressed because she wanted to do so much, but couldn't. It's hard on a person."  
  
"I'm sorry about your mum, but what's that got to do with Ben?"  
  
"It has to do with Constable Fraser because he's got this look, this sad look just like the one my mom used to get. He needs to talk to somebody, that's all I'm saying. You can't make it better by just pretending it's all physical, because it's not. You're too close."

Ray stood up, his heart and head pounding a mile a minute, but he didn't say anything, just went and got more coffee. By the time he returned to sit at the table, he'd calmed down enough to trust himself not to yell. "This isn't your business, but I'll let it slide this time."  
  
"Slide?"  
  
"Yeah, I won't tell you to fuck off, because you're his friend. Ben's going to be fine. If he needs to talk to somebody, then I'll get a doctor. You don't have to worry."  
  
"And what about you?"  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"No offence, but you look almost as bad as he does."  
  
Ray stood up, keeping his anger in check, but just barely. "Look, go build your houses, get a partner, whatever. Just don't come in here and tell me what I should do until you've had somebody you love shot down in front of you because you fucked up, okay? Until then, you've got no right to say anything about what I should or shouldn't do."  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean "  
  
Ray held up a hand. "I know. You care about Ben. I get it. Now get this. Visit if you want, but keep your mouth shut about what I should do stuff. I don't need your advice. I don't need the extra shit, okay?"  
  
Stevie stayed seated, the hurt etched on his face, his eyes a little wider. "Okay. Sorry. I'm not your enemy, Ray."  
  
"I know that. Don't you think I know that?"  
  
"I'm not sure what you know at this point."  
  
Ray blinked a couple of times, realizing he knew the feeling. He cleared his throat and thumbed at the door. "I've got to get back upstairs."  
  
"Yeah. Don't let me keep you."  
  
Ray stood a few moments longer, his head clearer. "Thanks for bringing the pictures. It made his day. Gives him something to look forward to."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Look, don't be mad. I'm a little cranky right now, that's all. Come back anytime. Ben likes to see you."  
  
"I'll be here."  
  
Not sure what else to say, Ray turned to head out. Stevie spoke to his back. "You won't do him any favors if you get sick, too."  
  
Ray didn't bother to answer, just kept walking, heading back to Ben's room. 

* * *

Pain shot through his chest and Ben jerked awake, his heart racing as he struggled to keep breathing. It took several seconds to realize he wasn't alone. "Inspector?"  
  
"Constable, do you need a nurse?"  
  
Licking his dry lips, Ben swallowed several times to calm down enough to speak clearly. "I'll be fine in a moment. The pain is rather acute at times, but it passes."  
  
His commanding officer, Inspector Hathaway, stood by the bed watching him, hands behind his back. Unsettled, Ben shifted again and winced, barely stifling another groan. "Don't move on my account, Constable. I'll only stay a moment."  
  
Ben used his right hand to find the controls and raised the head of his bed slightly higher so he could see and breathe easier. Still groggy, both from sleep and drugs, he blinked a few times to focus. "What time is it?"  
  
"A little after eleven."  
  
"In the morning?"  
  
"Yes, in the morning."

"It would seem I've lost all sense of time since I've been here."  
  
"I can see how that might happen." Hathaway moved a little closer to the bed. "I just wanted to tell you that I've had to fill your position temporarily."  
  
Ben closed his eyes, willing himself not to react badly, finding it difficult to control his disappointment and deep sense of failure. "I'm sorry, sir. I know you counted on me to fill Constable McClain's position."  
  
"Nonsense. It's not your fault you were shot. I assure you that we'll have a placement open and ready when you're able to return."

"I have no idea when that will be, sir."

"Don't worry about that. Your prime responsibility is to regain your health. In the meantime, for practical purposes, I needed someone to do your duties. I was already understaffed and Constable McClain left two weeks ago to report to his new posting. I couldn't delay any longer."

"I understand."  
  
"Good man. Now, is there anything you need? Anything I can do to make this situation better?"  
  
Ben shook his head. "No, sir. You've been very supportive and I appreciate that."

Hathaway didn't move to leave. Instead, he stepped a fraction closer. "Constable, Dr. Egan tells me you're doing remarkably well considering the seriousness of your injury."  
  
"Yes, he's said the same thing to me as well."  
  
"I can't say I know what you're going through. I've never been shot. Broke a leg once, but that was nothing compared to this." Hathaway rubbed the back of his head, obviously unsettled. "Look, what I'm trying ineptly to say, is that I'd understand if, due to recent events, you decided you wanted to take an undetermined leave of absence or even resign the service."  
  
Ben didn't answer immediately. Instead, he tried to, as Ray would put it, read between the lines. Hathaway didn't meet his gaze and his voice tightened on the words. After a few moments, Ben asked, "Are you asking me to resign, sir?"  
  
"Not at all. I'm just saying it would be entirely understandable if you chose either course of action."  
  
"Permission to speak freely and off the record, sir."  
  
Hathaway looked up then and nodded. "Permission granted."  
  
"Are you being pressured to persuade me to resign, sir?"  
  
The man straightened, his eyes narrowing and his lips formed into a tight line. Then after a full minute, he relaxed slightly. "I'm ashamed to say that I have received some rather unsettling communications, Constable."  
  
"Unsettling in what regard?"  
  
"Unsettling in that they should never have been sent in the first place and I should never have been asked to act upon them."  
  
Ben's body went cold, the way it did in the past when he'd realized the sad truths about Victoria and Joshua, how they'd betrayed him. He'd had enough practice with heartache to realize that he could keep a straight face and still harbor a world of pain inside his own body. He amazed himself sometimes with the terrible weight he could carry and still function quite adequately. Still, he'd started young, learned early about loss and disappointment. It had served him well over the years. "I won't resign, sir, nor will I ask for a transfer, not unless I fail to recover enough to resume my duties with some level of proficiency."

"Good. I thought you'd say as much, but I felt obligated to pass on the message."  
  
"May I ask who actually sent the message?"  
  
"It'll serve no purpose to tell you that. Besides, you're a good officer and a gentleman. We need more men like you in the force, not fewer."

Ben couldn't let it go, not until he knew for sure, so he voiced his suspicion. "Was it Joshua's brother, Bryson?"  
  
Hathaway's eyes brightened. "You really are topnotch at your job, Constable. I tried to tell him that it would be tantamount to discrimination to dismiss you for your sexual preference, but he's quite homophobic. He feels you, and others like you, discredit the service. His views are not my own, nor are they the majority of the people in the force."

"He loved his brother."  
  
"His gay brother, I might add. If the whole Bullweather clan has that out-dated attitude toward homosexuality, it's no wonder the superintendent became so perverse."  
  
Ben had no desire to discuss the evolution of his ex-lover's sexual pathology. Just the thought of Joshua and his violence made him shudder. Hathaway noticed his reaction. "I'm sorry. This is no doubt an uncomfortable topic for you. I should go."

"Thank you for telling me the truth, sir."  
  
"No reason to thank me, Constable. I merely felt you had a right to know. Now, get some rest. You look quite done in."  
  
"Good day, sir."

Hathaway left and within a minute, Ray came in carrying a small container of apple juice. He sat down by the bed, putting the juice on the table before he asked, "What'd he say?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Don't who me. I saw Hathaway leave and he looked like Welsh when he did something he knew was going to piss me off."  
  
Ben opened his eyes, turning his head in Ray's direction. "It's nothing. He had to replace me temporarily while I'm on leave."  
  
"And that's it?"  
  
Ben thought about lying and then realized he and Ray had too much together to risk another lie between them. "He asked me if I wanted to resign."  
  
"Why'd he ask that?"

"Because of Joshua's brother, Bryson."  
  
"That sick fuck had a brother?"  
  
"And two sisters. Bryson has a lot of influence with the conservative groups within the RCMP. It's against policy to officially discriminate based on sexual preference, however"  
  
"He finds other ways to get rid of the fags, huh?"  
  
"Ray, you know I dislike that particular slur."  
  
"Sorry. But am I right? He wants to use you getting shot to get rid of you, get rid of the guy who he thinks caused his brother to shoot himself?"  
  
"So it would appear, yes."  
  
"And Hathaway bought into that?"  
  
"Not at all. He supports me and my relationship with you. He did, however, feel I needed to know the lay of the land, as it were."  
  
"Better the devil you know, huh?"  
  
"Something like that, yes."

Ray sighed heavily, his face tight, but weary. "You want some juice?"  
  
"What kind?"  
  
"Apple."  
  
"Perhaps later."  
  
They didn't talk after that. Drowsy, Ben relaxed and closed his eyes, listening as Ray shifted impatiently before getting up to pace to the window and back to the chair. Ben didn't have the strength to tell him it would be all right. His faith didn't extend that far into the future anymore. In fact, Ben wondered if it ever would again.

* * *

Ray rubbed his right thigh, the ache going all the way up his leg and into the small of his back. Getting up to stretch, he limped to the window. Ben didn't fail to notice. "You should go back to physiotherapy, Ray. It's been too long as it is. You'll likely have to start at the beginning."  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
"You could call Mrs. Murphy and arrange a session for this afternoon."  
  
Ray turned, arms crossed, staring at his partner. "I don't want to leave you alone that long."  
  
"I'll be perfectly fine for a few hours. You could run some errands as well."  
  
"What kind of errands?"  
  
"You could pick up mail for one. You told me last night you hadn't checked for several days. You should receive some word about your disability soon."  
  
Rubbing his chin, the whiskers scraped his fingertips. "I could shave while I'm at it, too, huh?"  
  
Ben smiled, pleased by the suggestion. "That would be a welcome change."  
  
Ray pretended to be hurt. "What? You don't dig the McQueen scruffy look?"  
  
"I like any look you have, Ray, you know that. I'm just saying that perhaps a little more attention to personal grooming might be in order for both of us. Actually, I was hoping you'd bring me an electric razor when you returned."  
  
Frowning, Ray stepped back to the bed and leaned against the rail. "You hate electric razors."  
  
"I do, yes, but I prefer them to having one of the nurses shave me."  
  
Ray bit his lower lip, embarrassed by his own limitations. "I'd shave you if I could, you know that, right?"  
  
"Ray, I understand why you can't."  
  
"I wish I did."  
  
Ben reached up and covered Ray's hand with his own. "You know why. Just the sight of the straight razor triggers traumatic memories of the attack by Clooney. There's no reason to be ashamed of that."  
  
Squeezing his eyes shut, Ray forced down the rising panic that just hearing the name Clooney produced deep down inside. Violent images slammed him from every direction, bright and painful, like flashing lights going on and off in his head. Each image brought a spike of pain and made his body shake. It took several long moments before the scary movie in his head finally stopped and he opened his eyes again, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry."

"Are you all right? You looked "  
  
"I'm fine. Just got lost in my head for a minute, that's all."  
  
Ben didn't keep at it, didn't ask him again to tell him about the flashback like he used to. Instead, he focused on something simple, something other than his partner being an emotional cripple. "I'd shave myself, but I'm afraid it requires two good hands to do an adequate job."  
  
"You could use a safety razor. They do pretty good."  
  
"No, I'd rather just use the electric one until I regain use of my arm and some dexterity."  
  
"Sure, sure, okay."  
  
Ben patted Ray's hand, pushing the issue again. "Make the call to Mrs. Murphy."  
  
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."  
  
"Never think that. However, you do need to get out more."  
  
Ray sat back down, tired of fighting the same battle about him leaving Ben on his own. "I dont have the number for rehab."  
  
"I'm sure the nurses would have it."  
  
"Yeah, probably." Reluctantly, Ray left, got the number, and made the call. It didn't take nearly as much effort as he thought it would. He popped a couple of aspirin before going back to the room, hoping the little white pills would stop the ache in his leg better than they did the pain in his head. When he went back in the room, he gave Ben a thumb's up. "She worked me in for this afternoon. I figure I can go to the house, go to the post office, maybe even stop in and see Cal before I go."  
  
"I think that's a wonderful idea, Ray. Stop and have lunch as well."  
  
"Yeah, I might do that. Anything you want me to bring back from Mimi's? How about some of that rack of caribou stuff you like?"  
  
"That sounds rather tasty, Ray, but a bit more than I need at the moment. Perhaps just some soup or stew. I dont mean to diminish the hard work of the dietary staff here at the hospital, but the food is "  
  
"Rotten."  
  
"I wouldn't say rotten, Ray. I'm sure it's quite nutritional. It's just "  
  
"Nasty."  
  
"Not very palatable."

"Gross."  
  
"Not very appealing."  
  
"Admit it, Ben, it's stuff even Dief wouldn't touch with a ten-foot paw."  
  
"I will admit that despite his less than finicky nature, Diefenbaker might, indeed, be hard pressed to devour any of what I've been served of late."

"Like I said, rotten."  
  
"All right, rotten it is then. I'd very much appreciate you bringing me back something more appetizing."  
  
"Sure, not a problem. Anything else?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"A book, magazine, maybe some crosswords or something? I know how you like those."

Ben's expression softened and he shook his head. "I'm fine, Ray. You don't have to bring me anything else. Besides, I really can't focus well enough to read or do puzzles just yet. I think I'll just rest some while you're gone."  
  
"If you dont have a truckload of visitors."  
  
"True. However, they do mean well."  
  
"Just don't be afraid to tell them to beat it if you get too tired, okay? Sometimes you're too polite for your own good."  
  
"One can never be too polite, Ray."  
  
"Sure they can. Now, take it easy while Im gone. I have to run to the house and pick up my trunks for the PT, but I should be back in a couple of hours. You've got the cell phone number, right?"  
  
"I'll be fine, Ray. You worry too much. Now, go."

"If I'd worried more before, then we wouldn't even be here."  
  
Ben frowned and stared at Ray like he hadn't heard right. "What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"What did you mean by that?"  
  
As he stepped to the door, Ray shrugged. "I didn't mean anything. Drop it."  
  
"I can't very well drop what I dont understand. Please tell me you dont blame yourself for what happened."  
  
"I'll be back."  
  
"Ray, wait."  
  
Turning, Ray shook his head, determined not to talk about it, the terrible thing that he carried around these days, the guilt of nearly getting Ben killed. "We'll talk later, okay? I don't want to do this right now."  
  
"But we will talk, Ray."  
  
"Sure, whatever. I've got to go."  
  
Outside in the hallway, Ray put out an arm and steadied himself against the wall. Dizzy, he waited for the light headedness to pass and then steeled himself for hurt that would come with working with his physical therapist. Aches and pains seemed to be his life now, a small price to pay for sidestepping the grave one more time.

* * *

Back at the house, Ray got cleaned up. He took a long, hot shower, changed into grey sweats, and then shaved. He avoided looking in the mirror as much as possible, didn't want to see the bruised, sunken eyes staring back. Sometimes he scared himself with his own reflection. No wonder Ben worried. Pouring some water into a glass, he swallowed down a few more aspirin. Damn things didn't do a lot, but they were better than nothing.  
  
Ray packed the gym bag for rehab with clean trunks and a change of clothes. Walking out the backdoor, he saw the flashing red light on the answering machine. He didn't bother to check it, because he really didn't care. He'd call back later, maybe.

Staying at Mimi's daughter's house during the renovation had been a godsend. Because of its location inside the city limits, it'd made going to and from the hospital easier. It also made it a snap to go to Cal's place without having to drive all the way back into town from the cabin. Walking into the shop, Ray called out. "Cal?"  
  
The older man came out from the back, smiling when he saw Ray. "Hey, stranger. How's Fraser?"  
  
"Better. He kicked my ass out for the afternoon."  
  
"Smart man, eh?"  
  
Ignoring the tease, Ray stepped closer to the counter. "Just thought I'd touch base. Haven't gotten to talk shop much, not since well, you know."  
  
Cal's expression darkened and he motioned with his head towards the backroom. "Come on. It's slow right now. I'll get you some coffee."  
  
Following his friend to the workroom, Ray asked about Cal's son and helper. "Where's Randy?"  
  
"Over getting some lunch. He'll be back in a minute. Have a seat."  
  
Settling into a chair, Ray let Cal pour him some coffee. Ray wrapped his hands around the warm the mug. "Thanks."  
  
Cal sat down across from him at the worktable with a cup of tea. "You look tired."  
  
"Things have been a little rough."  
  
"I can imagine."

"I'm okay, though, so don't worry."

"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah." Ray hunched his shoulders and sipped the coffee. The fatigue did a number on his muscles and the caffeine helped keep him going, made it easier to avoid nodding off when people kept talking at him.  
  
"Had any trouble with reporters sniffing around again?"  
  
Ray shook his head, both to clear out the cobwebs and to answer the question. "Not since right after it happened. I figure the news moves on, finds another story, grabs another headline. Plus, Hathaway did a pretty good job of squashing things. He made it pretty clear that if anybody stepped over the line, he'd be right there to take care of business."

"Grateful for that, eh?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, and that little shit, whatshisname Brown, the reporter who broke in looking for dirt on Fraser?"

"I remember."

"He apologized and got suspended for a couple of weeks from the station."

"He's lucky he wasn't arrested."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

Before Cal had a chance to comment further, Ray leaned forward, his elbows on the table, still holding the mug with both hands. "Look, I just wanted to tell you that I don't see me starting work here right away. Ben doesn't go for rehab until next week. Then it'll be a few more weeks before he'll be able to come home. He'll need me then, too."  
  
"I figured."  
  
"I'm sorry. I know I said I'd start "  
  
Cal waved off the apology. "It's not a problem. You can start whenever you want. Part-time, fulltime, either one is okay with me. I'll take whatever you can give me."  
  
"Thanks." Ray sat back and sipped at his hot coffee, remarkably comfortable for the first time in weeks. 

"I'm glad you stopped by. I've got good news."  
  
"Yeah? I could use some good news right about now. What is it?"  
  
"You know I told you I've got this friend, Jimmy Bass, who sells a lot of work to _Outdoor Photography_?"

"Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"Well, I sent him some of your stuff and he called me. I was going to come over tonight to tell you the magazine wants to use the eagle for the cover shot if he can get a release."  
  
Ray nearly choked on his drink and sat up straighter. "The cover? You're kidding."  
  
"Not only that, he's interested in using some of the other shots, too. In fact, he wants to talk to you, see if you're interested in him being your agent."  
  
"Agent for what?"  
  
"For selling your work." Cal leaned in, his voice earnest. "Ray, this is a big opportunity. Jimmy's good at what he does. I mean, he's got contacts all over the market. His clients' pictures are in magazines, in calendars, on greeting cards, just about any place where they use nature photography. He does all the grunt work of submission, wangling deals, and making out contracts. He's helped me make a little extra spending money from time to time since I quit years ago and started the shop, but as good as you are, you could be a professional and make some real money."

"And what's his take?"  
  
"Fifteen percent, but it's worth it. You don't have to worry with all the mailing and paperwork, not to mention the accounting for the taxes. He does all that for you. Believe me, it's worth every cent you pay the guy.

Stunned, not sure how to take it all in, Ray sat back and ran a hand through his hair. If he could make a living taking pictures, he and Ben wouldn't have to worry so much about making ends meet, especially if Ben couldnt work for a while. He swallowed hard and made a quick decision. "Sure, I'll meet with him."  
  
"That's great." Cal reached behind him to get a piece of paper and then handed Ray the contract. "This is a release for one time printing rights. You sign it and they'll send you a check as soon as it's published. That won't be for a few months, but it's a start."  
  
"A check? For how much?"  
  
"Five hundred."  
  
Ray's jaw dropped. "Five hundred dollars?" Ray decided not to get too excited before he knew for sure just how much money they were really talking about. "In American or Canadian?"

Cal chuckled at the question, but grinned big when he answered, "American."

"Damn. That's a lot, right?"  
  
"It's for a cover. You get more for those. Plus, if somebody wanted to buy exclusive rights, it could be more. I wouldnt recommend selling the rights unless it's limited to the one time printing offer."

"What's the difference?"  
  
"If you sold somebody exclusive rights, you wouldn't be able to use it if you decide to do your own book later. That's why you need Jimmy looking out for you. He makes sure you don't get taken advantage of."  
  
Ray sat there for a minute as he took it all in. He couldn't believe that it was really happening, he might actually do this thing. He'd always wanted to be a professional photographer or an artist, despite what his dad and Stella thought about the idea. It'd be almost worth it just to prove them wrong, but more importantly, he'd prove to himself he could do something besides being a cop and make a go of it. "I don't know what to say."  
  
"Just sign the release. Then I'll fax it out before I mail the contract. If you want, I can have Jimmy come in this week and you two can talk."  
  
"I can't, not this week." Ray rubbed his face with both hands. "There's just too much going on right now. You can send him my stuff if you want, but I can't deal with all this and Ben, too."  
  
"I understand. When Fraser gets out of the hospital and things are more settled, that'll be time enough. There's no hurry. I just wanted you to get good news for a change."  
  
"Thanks. I appreciate that." Ray picked up the pen and signed the paper. Ben would throw a fit about not reading every little detail before he signed, but Ray trusted his friend. He pushed the paper toward Cal. "Does this mean you have to take the poster out of the window?"  
  
"No. They're just buying the right to print it in their magazine."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"Yeah, very."  
  
Ray heard the jingle of the bell over the door as Cal's son returned, so he stood up. "I've got some things to do right now. Why don't you drop by the hospital sometime? You can explain this stuff to Ben better than I can."  
  
"Sure. I'd be happy to."  
  
"Later then."

As he left, Ray still couldn't believe some complete stranger was going to turn his world upside down like that, sell his work and make everything easier. There had to be a catch somewhere. For the moment, Ray just headed out to get Ben his electric razor and hoped to hell that he could at least enjoy the thrill of success for a little while longer, before people came to their senses and realized that he was just another American yahoo with a camera.

* * *

As he walked into the rehab room, he saw Kate Murphy talking to a guy at the desk. He dropped his bag near the mat where they usually did the session. When he looked up again, she'd already crossed the distance and grabbed him in a big bear hug. "God, it's so good to see you."  
  
Not quite sure how to react, Ray just went with it and hugged back. "Thanks."  
  
Pulling away, she shook her head in disapproval as she appraised his condition. "You look terrible. You've lost weight and you were pretty much a sack of bones to begin with."  
  
"Yeah, well, it's been busy."  
  
She motioned for him to sit on the bench and then sat on the low rolling chair across from him. "How's your partner?"  
  
"He's doing okay, I guess."  
  
"When's he coming to rehab?"  
  
"Don't know for sure. Soon, I hope. Egan won't let him come home until he's able to get around on his own without wheezing so much." Ray met her gaze and asked, "You doing his therapy?"  
  
"Egan asked for Marlon."  
  
"Marlon?"

"Yeah, Marlon Whitefeather."  
  
Kate pointed towards one of the therapists, a native man who was about six foot five and two hundred and fifty pounds of nothing but muscle, what Ray would call a real bruiser. "Wow, he work out much?"  
  
"You have to with this job."  
  
"Why'd Egan want him and not you?"  
  
"Constable Fraser's going to need a lot more intensive physiotherapy, a lot more hours and more weeks. Most of my clients are outpatient like you. I do one hours and Marlon works mainly through the inpatient rehab center."

Disappointed that Ben wouldn't have Kate, he shrugged, figuring it made sense to get someone who could work the long hours Ben would need to get his strength and the use of his arm back. Still, it would've been nice to work out together. When he didn't say anything, Kate asked, "How's your head?"  
  
"My head?"  
  
She reached over and touched the fine line over his left ear. "The hair's growing back. You can hardly see it. Still, it's hard to believe you got shot in the head and lived to tell it."  
  
"Well, you always did say I had a hard head."  
  
"Yeah, but not that hard, eh?" 

"Look, I wanted to say thanks for the flowers you sent. They were nice."  
  
"Sorry I didn't come by much."  
  
"It's okay. I know you're busy."

She leaned in, her voice softer. "How have you really been since the shooting?"  
  
"As okay as I can be." Ray didn't want to think or talk about that day so he changed the subject. "Guess I should tell you now, I haven't done any of the exercises. The leg feels worse than it did when we first started."  
  
"I'm not surprised. It's been weeks." She motioned for him to lift his leg. "Let's see what we've got."

When she manipulated his leg and pressed around on his thigh, the muscles tightened in protest and he winced. She stopped. "It's not as bad as it could be, but we'll need to go back a few steps from where we were. It's doable, though. You bring trunks?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Tell you what. Why don't we go directly to the whirlpool and massage today, ease back into it?"  
  
"You sure? You don't think we should do some stretching and lifting and stuff?"  
  
"You want to hurt yourself when you don't have to?"  
  
"No, it's just "  
  
"Listen to me, Ray. We'll start slow. Today's Friday, so I won't be able to see you again until Monday. You need to try to do some of the exercises at home over the weekend. That way we only lose a week or two of the scheduled recovery time on the leg."  
  
"Sure, okay, I'll try. It's just hard to do the exercises right now. I'm in the hospital most of the time."  
  
"All right, I understand that. Just do what you can. Half the number from before should be fine for now. I can fit you in every weekday like before starting on Monday. You okay with that?"  
  
"Sure, I can do that."  
  
"Good. So, go get your trunks on and meet me at the whirlpool."  
  
"Right. I'll go change."  
  
As soon as she left, he got up, took a deep breath, and wished like hell that people would stop trying to make it so goddamn easy for him all the time. It just didn't feel right being the one to get off easy.

* * *

Ray pushed the thick envelope to the other side of the table, fiddling with the edges, not sure what to do. It had the official CPD seal on the corner, and he knew without opening it, that it had his formal release papers. He hadn't talked to Welsh in a while, so he had no idea what the final decision had been about the disability. Mimi interrupted his thoughts. "You ready to order?"  
  
"Yeah, I want some of the moose stew and a couple of biscuits to go. Ben loves your stew."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"Not hungry, but I'll take some coffee while I wait."

Mimi put her hand on her hip and fussed, "You need to eat, Ray. I'm bringing you a hamburger and some fries, okay?"  
  
Too tired to fight, Ray shrugged. "Sure, okay, whatever."  
  
Mimi sighed heavily, shaking her head as she walked away while still writing on the pad. A few minutes later, she returned with the coffee. Instead of leaving, she sat down. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." Ray doctored his coffee, avoiding her eyes.  
  
"Is Ben worse?"

"No, he's doing okay, a little better than yesterday."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"I went back to PT. I'm just a little tired, that's all." Ray sipped his coffee, stealing a glance, realizing she wasn't buying a word of it.

Mimi pointed at the envelope on the table. "What's that?"

Ray put the coffee down and picked it up, turning it over in his hands, and then placing it on the table again. "It's my walking papers."  
  
Nodding in understanding, she studied him for a long moment before she asked, "How do you feel about that, not being a policeman anymore?"  
  
"I'm okay with it. I mean, I was the one who quit."  
  
"I know, but still, it's hard to make such drastic changes."  
  
"Yeah, it is." He lowered his voice and leaned in. "I've always been a cop, you know? Now, it's like, what am I? I'm on training wheels here, starting over from scratch, new life, new country. It's just a lot to deal with at one time."  
  
"You regret it?"  
  
"Not a bit not really well, maybe a little. I mean, sure, I'll miss parts of it, but most of it, so long, good riddance. It's just getting used to it, that's all."  
  
She patted his hand and smiled. "You'll do fine here once Ben gets back on his feet and you two can get started on a real life again."  
  
Snorting, Ray sat back. "This isn't real life, huh?"  
  
"Being in the hospital all the time like that? It's more like a suspension of life. You can't really do anything else. You're stuck, and until he's out and you're able to relax a little, well, you're going to stay stuck for a while."  
  
Ray studied her dark eyes and nodded. "Stuck, huh? Yeah, I get that. I feel stuck, not that it's Ben's fault, it's not."  
  
"Of course it's not."  
  
Ray shut his eyes, flashes of the shooting parading in his head, the sound of the gunfire and the screams, the terrible weight of Ben's body as the bullets hit the smell of his blood. Inside his head, he relived the moments of falling, of helplessness as the man he loved nearly died in his arms. Mimi touched his hand and Ray jerked away, startled. " **Don't** do that."

"Ray?"

Back in the moment, Ray sat up straighter, running a nervous hand through his hair. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to bite your head off. I'm just a little jumpy."  
  
"I can see that."  
  
Ray stood up, too wired to sit still. "Look, cancel the burger and fries. Just let me take the stew for Ben, okay? I need to get back to the hospital. I've been gone all afternoon."  
  
Worried, Mimi got up, too, careful not to touch him again. "Ray, sit down and finish the coffee. I'll get the stew. It'll only take a minute."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah, sit."

Reluctantly, Ray sat down, wishing like hell he could have a beer, or something stronger, just to calm his nerves. He hated how his body got the shakes sometimes for no good reason. Shit. Wrapping his arms around his middle to hide the tremors, he worked hard to keep his voice even. "I really **need** to go."  
  
"I understand. Stay put and I'll be right back."

As Mimi hustled off to the kitchen, Ray closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He couldn't afford to lose it in public like that. People would talk, they'd know he was a basket case and start yakking, telling tales about the crazy Yank Ben brought home from the States. Hell, they probably were already scaring the babies into behaving with stories about Bogeyman Ray. 

Mimi came back and handed him the bags. "Here." Ray stood and held out some money, which she waved off. "You know I don't charge you two."

"I know. It's for the shelter jar."  
  
"Okay, in that case." She took it, her expression dark. "Look, Ray, you need to rest. Don't stay at the hospital tonight. I'll come over and stay so you can have a night off."  
  
"No, that's all right. You've stayed plenty."  
  
"I'm not asking, I'm telling. You go to the house tonight and get some sleep. Things will be a lot better in the morning. I'll be at the hospital around seven and you can take off, okay?"  
  
"What about Jeremy?"  
  
"He can stay over at Cal's place. He and Dief practically live there anyway."

"Look, I appreciate the offer, but I won't sleep any better at the house. I'd rather stay with Ben."  
  
"I'll make a deal."  
  
Ray cocked his head, wondering what she was up to. "A deal? What kind of deal?"  
  
"We'll let Ben decide."  
  
Picking up the take out bags and the envelope, Ray shook his head. "That's not fair. You know what he'll say."

"Even so, we'll let him decide. You willing to abide by his decision?"  
  
Ray lowered his voice, struggling to keep his temper in check. "I know you mean well, but it's not his decision to make. I'm staying at the hospital. You want to come visit, fine, but dont tell me what to do, Mimi. I'm not twelve and I'm not some idiot who has to be handled and cared for."  
  
"Then don't act like it." Instead of being intimidated by the fierceness of his tone, she stared right back at him. "You keep this up, you'll be back in the hospital bed beside him. Is that what you want?"  
  
Ray didn't answer, didn't even finish the conversation. He knew he couldn't explain why he needed to be there, why he was afraid to leave for long. He took the food and the envelope and walked out the front door, Mimi talking to his back. "Seven o'clock, Ray. I'll be there."

* * *

Ray walked in quietly, leaving the light off, trying to let Ben sleep a little while longer. As soon as he put the paper bags down, Ben asked, "How was the session?"  
  
"You're supposed to be asleep."  
  
"I was asleep, but I smelled stew. Now I'm awake and hungry."  
  
Ray chuckled and shook his head in amusement. "You're getting more and more like Dief all the time."

"A well developed olfactory sense is nothing to mock, Ray."

"Who's mocking?"

"Sounded like mocking."

"Gain a sense, lose a sense."

"And what sense would that be, Ray?"  
  
"Sense of humor, sounds like." Before Ben said anything else, Ray raised a stalling hand and changed the subject. "Got your razor."  
  
"Thank you kindly."  
  
"Sure, not a problem." He put the boxed electric razor on the bedside table before turning his attention back to the food. "And I've got moose stew and some fresh biscuits. They're still hot, too." Ray rummaged through the bag and got out the dishes along with the twig tea Mimi had included for Ben. He waited until Ben adjusted his position in the bed before pushing the tray over for him to eat.

Checking out the other bag, Ray saw that Mimi had also packed his hamburger and fries. He had to smile at the fact that even when he was pissy with her, she never gave up trying to feed him. He had to admit that the food smelled pretty good. Seeing Ben eat with such an improved appetite helped his own hunger gear up a little, too.

Settling into the chair, Ray made a tray using the brown paper bag and the fat envelope from the Chicago PD on the ledge by the window. He bit into the hamburger and followed it with a fry. He had to admit he'd never had food this good in the States, well, except for Tommy's pineapple pizza. Still, it was pretty damn tasty and it'd been a hell of a long time since he'd eaten a whole meal.

"It's good to see you eat, Ray."  
  
"I eat."  
  
"I know you do, just not with much fervor."

Ray lifted the burger and took another big bite, making a production of talking with his mouth full. "Food's good. That helps."  
  
"Indeed, it does." Ben continued to eat his stew, dipping the biscuit in the gravy, just the way Ray liked to do it, too. Seemed like the longer they were together, the more they picked up the other guy's habits. 

Several minutes later, the stew was all gone. Ben sipped his tea and actually had color back in his cheeks. If moose stew was what it took to make him look so good, Ray would make sure he had moose stew anytime he wanted. "You should tell Mimi she's quite outdone herself with the stew, Ray."  
  
Ray polished off the fries and put down the last few bites of his hamburger. "She's coming by tonight around seven." He didn't mention Mimi's offer to stay. He figured he'd fight that battle when it happened. "You can tell her yourself. She'll like that."  
  
"I will, then."  
  
Ben put the tea down and shifted a bit in the bed so he could see Ray better. "How was your physiotherapy session?"  
  
"Fine. We did the water thing mostly. She wants to ease me back into it."  
  
"That sounds reasonable."  
  
"Yeah, maybe."  
  
"Ray?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm just tired." Ray scooted his chair closer to the bed so that he could talk to Ben without Ben straining his neck so much. "You have any visitors while I was gone?"  
  
"Dr. Egan came in."  
  
Ray's chest tightened, hoping for the best, fearing for the worse. "What'd he say?"  
  
"I'll likely be moved to the rehab center sometime tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow? For real? That's a lot sooner than we thought."  
  
"Frankly, I'll be glad to get there."  
  
"Yeah, me, too."

"This is a good thing, Ray."  
  
"Yeah, I know that." Ray ran a nervous hand through his hair, a flutter of dread making his skin icy and his heart skip a few beats. "It's just kind of sudden."

"I'll be fine."  
  
"I know." Ray swallowed down his own fears and took a closer look at Ben, who suddenly looked like someone had punched him in the head. "So why the long face?"  
  
Ben reached through the railing and took Ray's hand before he spoke. "You're not going to like what else he told me."  
  
"Wouldn't be the first time. What is it?"  
  
"He said that while I'm doing the physiotherapy, you can't be there during the day. You can visit in the evening, but that's all. You can't spend the night."  
  
"Fuck that!" Air thinned and Ray worked harder not to give into the rising panic. "What the hell is he talking about, I can't be there?  
  
Ben squeezed his hand in reassurance. "It makes sense, Ray. I have to learn to do things on my own. Plus, the days are going to be gruelling, several sessions, up to five to six hours total, possibly more. It's going to take all my concentration to get my strength back and to learn to use my arm and hand again."

Reluctantly, Ray admitted that it made sense, that Ben needed to focus on getting better and not on worrying about him. Still, just the thought of Ben going through all that suffering without him made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to put the brakes on the whole tomorrow thing, give it a few more days when Ben wasn't quite so weak. "I wish I could make it better. Hell, I'd do it for you if I could. You know that right?"  
  
"I know that, but that's not possible."  
  
"It sucks."  
  
"Yes, it does."  
  
Ray sighed and kissed Ben's hand. His voice shook as he spoke. "It's going to be weird not being there."  
  
"I know. Perhaps you can use the time to work for Cal or to take some photos. It's a lovely time of year now. Since, I'm rather limited at the moment, I'd love to see the world through your eyes, through your pictures."

"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Not a problem, I can do that." Ray brightened and straightened up. "Speaking of Cal, guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
" _Outdoor Photgraphy_ wants to use my eagle for the cover."  
  
Full of pride, Ben's face lit up. "That's wonderful, Ray. How did they come to see the picture?"  
  
"Cal sent it to a friend of his, a Jimmy Bass. He showed it to them, and they were interested. And get this, it's worth five hundred bucks just for printing it one time."  
  
"Really? That's extraordinary."  
  
"I know. I thought he was kidding. Anyway, this Bass guy might want to be my agent. Cal says he's a good guy, trusts him. What do you think? Should I go for it?"  
  
"I think it's a wonderful opportunity."  
  
"Yeah, me, too. Cal's going to tell you all about it next time he's over. I figure you can be the detail man and I'll keep taking the pictures."  
  
"That sounds practical."  
  
"You know me, Mr. Practical not."  
  
That made Ben smile even wider. "I'm very proud of you, Ray."  
  
Cheeks heated, Ray smiled, embarrassed by how much Ben's approval meant to him. He figured it was time to quit kidding himself. Ben rocked his world, made everything brighter, bolder, worth going for. "Thanks."  
  
"What do you plan to do with the money?"  
  
"Put it in the bank and use it for whatever we need, I guess."  
  
"It's your money, Ray. You should buy yourself something special."  
  
Ray's grin vanished and he leaned in, his face serious again. "It's **our** money, Ben. What I make is yours. It goes into the bank for both of us, got it?"  
  
"I didn't mean to "  
  
"I know what you meant, but remember what I said before about not wanting you to have to carry me when I left the department? I meant that. Whether it's selling pictures or working at Cal's, I'll pay my own way."  
  
Ben's fingers twitched and then tightened in Ray's hand. "And what about me, Ray? What if I can't work again? How will I pay my own way?"  
  
Ray let go of Ben's hand long enough to lower the rail and sit on the side of the bed. He took the right hand again and then petted back Ben's hair as he spoke quietly. "We're in this together, Ben. Besides, you'll be working again before you know it."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"I **do** know that. I believe it."  
  
Ben sighed, closing his eyes. "I want to believe that."  
  
"Hey, when did I become the guy who has to convince you to believe in yourself?"  
  
"Since the shooting, I suppose."  
  
Ray stiffened and Ben opened his eyes. As Ray tried to let go and stand up, Ben wrapped his fingers around Ray's wrist. His left hand might be lame, but there wasn't a damn thing wrong with his right. "Tell me what you meant earlier, Ray, when you said if you'd worried more before, we wouldn't be here."

Ray wondered how the hell Ben could hold on so tight when he was in a hospital bed. Defensive, ready for a fight, Ray snapped, "Just what I said. If I'd worried more about the danger and less about going to the fucking party, you wouldn't have gotten shot. Hell, none of this would've happened."  
  
Ben still held on, studying him closely before he said the one thing Ray didn't want to hear, couldn't believe. "It wasn't your fault."  
  
"Don't say that."  
  
"Ray, Norman was determined to shoot me. It could've just as easily have happened at Susan's house or at the cabin. Neither of us are psychic. We can't see the future." Ben squeezed his arm even harder and repeated himself. "It wasn't your fault."  
  
"But if "  
  
"Ray, just listen to me."  
  
"I am listening, but you're not seeing the whole picture. I mean, you kept saying we shouldn't go and I overruled you. I mean, the one time I should've listened, I didn't." His eyes stinging, Ray shook his head. "And now you're paying for it."  
  
"If you hadn't paid attention, I'd be dead. You keep forgetting about the part where you saved my life."  
  
"I didn't save your life. Your dad did."  
  
"He couldn't have done anything without you risking yours. Dear god, Ray, you were shot saving me. How could you possibly blame yourself after that?"  
  
Ray didn't answer, just gritted his teeth, and replayed the whole thing in his head. Finally, he whispered, "Let go, Ben. I need to get out of here for a while, take a walk, clear my head some."  
  
"Ray, please stay. We need to settle this."  
  
"Let go."  
  
Ben released him, but didn't shut up, just kept talking nonsense. "If you blame yourself, you're just being perverse. Norman is to blame, not you. You did everything you could have under the circumstances."  
  
"Maybe, maybe not, but you almost died, Ben. Hell, your heart stopped a couple of times. You think I could live with myself if you'd left me like that? Do you?"  
  
"You'd do what you have to, Ray."  
  
"Yeah, well, right now I have to go someplace, get some fresh air. You're making me a little crazy talking like I didn't do anything wrong when we both know that's a crock."  
  
"What do I have to say to convince you?"  
  
"Nothing. There's nothing you can say. All I can hope is that you'll forgive me."  
  
Ben shook his head, frustrated and very tired. "There's nothing to forgive."  
  
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that enough and pretty soon you'll believe it, but we both know it's bullshit." Ray got to the door, hand on the handle. "I'm sorry. I've got to go."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"I'll be back."  
  
Out the door, down the back stairs, Ray raced out of the building, hoping like hell that nobody saw him crying like a big baby.

* * *

Ray ran, pushing away bad memories and losing track of time. Then his leg complained, cramping up and making his limp even worse than before. So he slowed to a walk, moving as fast as he could, taking lap after lap around the building. Mimi's burger and fries ended up in the nearest trash bin at the tail end of lap eight. Ray rinsed out his mouth at the fountain, took some aspirin, and then sat down on the concrete bench in the small picnic area at the back of the hospital where staffers took breaks. 

An orderly and nurse chatted and smoked over to the side. From the low laughter and small touches, Ray figured they were probably screwing around, too. No matter where he went, Chicago, Canada, people were people. That never changed. They all had the same needs, the same desires to be with somebody, to love somebody, to find some way to feel halfway decent when life hammered a guy into the wall. 

Even at a distance, the strong whiff of cigarette smoke set off Ray's craving. He'd quit years ago, but whenever he smelled cigarettes, he wanted to start again. If it weren't for Ben, he'd do it in a heartbeat. 

Hands still shaky, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and stood up. He needed to get back inside, set things straight with Ben once and for all.  
  
"Are you all right, son?"  
  
He turned to see Dr. Egan standing nearby, studying him. Ray crossed his arms and cleared his throat. "I'm fine. Just needed some air."  
  
"Ben told me you were upset."  
  
"I'm not upset, just a little wired, that's all."  
  
"You want to talk about it?"  
  
"No, but I do want to talk about this rehab deal. Why can't I be there when he's working out? I could help, make it a little easier. And why can't I spend the night like I've been doing? How can my being there hurt?"  
  
"Have a seat, Ray, and I'll explain."  
  
Reluctantly, Ray sat on the bench and Egan settled beside him. "As I told your partner, this part is going to be very difficult. He's weak right now both from the trauma and the pneumonia. First, we'll work on building his stamina and will continue the respiratory therapy. Second, we'll have to retrain his arm. The nerve and muscle damage from the bullet might cause a permanent weakness, but I'm confident that we can mitigate that with aggressive physiotherapy now, before it gets worse."  
  
"By aggressive, you mean what?"  
  
"I mean, up to five to six sessions a day for the first week and then re-evaluate after that. That will include hydro, heat, massage, weights, and both passive and active exercise. That's why it's got to be inpatient therapy for now. This isn't a simple process."

Ray swallowed hard as he got the picture. "Sounds like it's going to be hell."  
  
"One version of it, possibly, but Ben's a very proud and determined man. He wants to return to active duty with no limitations. To do that, he'll need your help."  
  
"I'm here for him, you know that."  
  
"The hardest part will be to let go, to let him do most of it on his own. That's one of the reasons that it's policy that while a patient's in rehab, you can visit between seven and nine at night, but otherwise, the rehab center is off limits. He needs to focus on his own recovery and not worry about how bad it looks to you. He has to learn to be completely independent again."  
  
It made sense, but Ray wasn't happy about it, not by a long shot. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face with both hands. "I just want to do something to make it better, you know? How can I do that if I'm not there?"  
  
"You can start by taking care of yourself better."  
  
Ray sat back up, arms crossed, suddenly defensive again. "I'm doing okay."  
  
"You're overdue for the blood tests we were supposed to take a few weeks ago."  
  
"I got busy."  
  
"I know that, and that's why I've put off mentioning it until now. I'd like to retest. Plus, you've lost weight. How much? Ten, fifteen pounds since the shooting?"  
  
Angrily, Ray stood up and snapped, "Look, I'm skinny. I've always been a stick, but I'm okay. I dont need blood tests. Once Ben's out of here and back on his feet, things will even out and I'll gain it all back. It's a little hard to worry about a fucking diet when your partner's in the hospital."  
  
Unfazed by Ray's outburst, Egan asked, "Have you been taking the vitamins?"  
  
"Vitamins? What vitamins?"  
  
"I guess that answers that question. I'm talking about the vitamins I prescribed for your anemia."  
  
Ray suddenly remembered and shook his head. "Haven't really thought about it. I'll start taking them tonight, okay?"  
  
"No, Ray, it's not okay." Egan stood and stepped closer, his voice soft, his hand on Ray's shoulder. "You've been borderline anemic for months before you got here. You're paler now than before. Stop by my office on Monday so we can run those tests again."  
  
Ray pulled away, putting a little more distance between them. "I dont see the point. I feel fine."  
  
"I can't force you to be tested, but I strongly advise it."  
  
Hesitating, Ray shrugged. "I'll think about it. Right now I need to get back up there."  
  
"I wish you'd reconsider."

"Later, Doc."  
  
"Sooner than later, Ray."  
  
"Yeah, right. See ya." Ray headed back inside the building, wishing like hell the guy would keep his worry and his medical know-how focused on Ben and leave him the hell out of it.

* * *

Walking into the hospital room, Ray held up a hand to shut down Ben's protest before it ever got started. "I go first."  
  
Reluctantly, Ben nodded in acceptance. "As you wish."  
  
Ray paced at the end of the bed a few times, running his hand through his hair, trying to line up the words so that they made more sense out loud than they did in his head. "Okay, here's the deal."  
  
"What deal?"  
  
"The deal about dealing with what happened. There's nothing you can say that's going to make me not feel guilty here. You want to let me off the hook for it, because that's what you do. You forgive people all the time, but I can't do that, can't say I had nothing to do with it when I did. It's just not going to happen."

"Ray, there's nothing "  
  
"Stop. I'm not done yet."  
  
"Very well." Ben crossed his right arm over his chest and spoke tightly, like it hurt to keep listening, but he did. Ray had to hand it to him, Ben knew how to listen better than he used to, a lot better. Sometimes he wasn't so sure that was a good thing. "Ray, you were saying"  
  
"Look, I get you don't believe it. Hell, you don't even remember what happened, not really, but I do. I'm telling you, it's all on me here. So, the only thing to do is for us not to talk about it, just accept that you don't believe it and I do."  
  
"You can't be serious."  
  
Ray studied Ben's grim features and crossed his arms, his hands tucked up under his armpits. "Yeah, I am."  
  
"We have to talk about this, Ray. You can't labor under the false impression that you're to blame for my injuries. That added to your other guilt fixations could be disastrous."  
  
"Other guilt fixations?"  
  
"Yes, the guilt you feel for the deaths of those two young men, Biggs and Jones."  
  
"That's not about fixation, Ben. That's about facts. Those kids would still be alive if it weren't for me. Not to mention all the other shit that happened that wouldn't have happened if I'd been better at my job."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"No, I'm serious, Ben. I dont want to talk about all this shit, not now, not with you in a hospital bed because I fucked up again." Ray walked over to the window, staring out, not really seeing the world outside the room. "I have to live with it, but that doesn't mean I have to talk it to death."  
  
Ben's voice softened. "You're too hard on yourself."  
  
"This from the guy who blames himself for just about everything thing else under the sun."  
  
Ben shifted a little in the bed, lying on his side. He coughed a few times and steadied himself with his hand on the bedrail. "We won't talk about it for now, but eventually, we will need to resolve this."  
  
Ray turned, leaning his butt back against the window ledge. "Nothing to resolve. Look, I get that you don't want to blame me, and that's okay. It just doesn't change how I feel about it."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For this whole situation. If one wants to lay blame, there's plenty to go around. I never took Joshua's fear of my return to Canada seriously. He obviously felt threatened enough that he manipulated Norman into trying to assassinate me. Had I been more concerned, more able to negate his fears about the revelation of his past, perhaps this could have been avoided."  
  
"Just stop, okay? I know what you're doing, but it's stupid. It doesn't help. You had no way of knowing what a seriously sick fuck Bullweather was."  
  
Ben snorted, his eyes closing briefly before he whispered, "On the contrary, Ray. I, of all people, knew exactly how sick he was. I should've suspected retaliation after his visit. I just didn't want to think that he both hated and feared me that much after all this time."  
  
"It wasn't your fault."

"I fear we've come to an impasse."  
  
"Then let's talk about something else."  
  
"Very well. What do you suggest?"  
  
Ray put the paper bag from lunch into the trash and picked up the envelope from the Chicago PD, holding it up for Ben to see. "How about this?"  
  
"Are those your final papers?"  
  
"I guess. I don't know. I haven't opened them yet."  
  
"May I ask why not?"  
  
Shrugging, Ray sat down in the chair by the bed. "Guess I was too chicken."  
  
"Why would you be afraid of the papers?"  
  
"I guess because they make it final. It's signed, sealed, and delivered, no more Detective Kowalski."  
  
"I understand."  
  
Ray looked up and met Ben's gaze, saw a face filled with sympathy. "Yeah, I guess you do. It'd be the same if you couldn't be a Mountie anymore, huh?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Only this is a little different. I mean, I chose to quit."  
  
"Open it, Ray. See what it says."  
  
Ray took a long deep breath and then tore open the end of the envelope. He pulled out the papers, scanned them, and then shrugged. "Well, it's official."  
  
"Official?"  
  
"You're hooked up with a head case, a guy who's too messed up to work the streets or even wear a badge."  
  
"I take it they approved the disability?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. According to this, it wasn't even a close call. Go figure."  
  
"Well, you did have statements from both Dr. Reese and Dr. Collier, not to mention the recommendations of Lt. Welsh and Captain Turner."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Putting the papers down on the table, Ray sat back, letting the idea sink in, no more job, no more cop work. From then on, he'd be labelled an emotional cripple, a burnout, someone who couldn't hack it anymore. He leaned forward, head down, his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I was expecting it, but now that it's here, now that it's real, it's just different." He rubbed his face with both hands, his head all swimmy. "It's a lot to take in."  
  
"I'm sorry, Ray."  
  
Ray lifted his head and asked, "For what?"  
  
"I know you were reluctant to take the disability. Perhaps you shouldn't have."  
  
"No, it's okay. I mean, on the practical side, it's a good thing. I've got direct deposit for the check every month and my insurance doesn't get dropped. I can keep taking the PT without busting the budget. I just have to get used to the idea, that's all."

"What idea is that, Ray?"  
  
"You know, the idea that I'm on record as being damaged, that I've got a screw loose, that I'm more than just a little kooky with bad guys. I guess it's one thing for me to know it and another for others to know it."

"You don't have a screw loose, as it were, Ray. You were seriously injured while doing your duty. Actually, you function rather well considering how extreme your injuries were. You've come a long way since the attack"  
  
"I hear a but coming."  
  
"But you're not completely recovered."  
  
Taking a long time before he answered, Ray finally spoke quietly. "I want to be, Ben. I want to put all this shit behind me. I just can't seem to get a handle on it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You know? What's that supposed to mean, you know?"  
  
"You're having nightmares again."

Ray remembered waking up in the hospital chair and screaming the night before. Sheepishly, he shrugged. "Sorry. I guess, Egan's right. Maybe it would be a good thing if I didnt hang around at night anymore."  
  
"I wasn't suggesting that you not stay, Ray, not because of the nightmares. I'm just concerned about you, that's all."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Are the dreams about Clooney?"  
  
Jerking straight up again, Ray shook his head, his eyes shut as he tried to forget even hearing that name out loud. "I dont know. I don't always remember."  
  
"Don't remember?"  
  
"No, not the details anyway. It's all mixed up."  
  
"That's new."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You usually remember what you dream."  
  
"Yeah, well, now I don't, or at least not all of it. It's like a big mess in my head. Sometimes it's the shooting, sometimes the attack, sometimes I'm just trying to keep breathing."  
  
"Keep breathing?"  
  
"Like I'm drowning. You know how I hate water, right?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Well, now it's showing up in my dreams and you're not there to do the buddy-breathing thing, not usually."  
  
"What's that mean, not usually?"  
  
Ray sighed heavily, his hands trembling. He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging hard to stop the shakes. "A couple of times I've had this dream where you're kissing me underwater, but it's not water. It's blood and there's blood in our mouths. I get choked and can't breathe."  
  
"Good god, Ray, that's horrible."  
  
Ray shrugged it off, still a little creeped out just from talking about it. "Anyway, that's why it's a little hard to settle down and nod off. I keep wondering what's waiting on the other side. It puts a whole new spin on _you snooze, you lose_."

Ben didn't speak right away. When he did, Ray wasn't happy with what he heard. "You really need to see someone about this."  
  
"You mean a shrink?"  
  
"A psychologist, yes, someone to help you resolve some of your issues around what's happened to you in such a very short period of time."  
  
Ray stood up, pacing again, working really hard not to blow his top. "I told you, I'm not seeing a head jockey, so drop it."  
  
"I understand your reluctance, but you're obviously troubled."  
  
"So the fuck what? Everybody's got shit that makes them a little crazy. I've got more shit than most, that's all."  
  
"I just think "  
  
"Forget about it. Once you're better and things calm down, it'll be okay. Until then, I'll just hang in there." Ray came around, putting his hands on the rail, bracing himself. "I'll be okay when you're okay. I promise."  
  
Ben put his right hand over Ray's, the palm warm and strong. "I'll hold you to your word, Ray."  
  
"You've got it."

* * *

Around four in the afternoon, Ray sat in the chair trying to read the newspaper while Ben rested. Ray had no idea what was going on in Yellowknife beyond the hospital room and didn't much care. Nothing really jumped out at him as he glanced over the pages, but it took up time and kept him from being seriously bored out of his skull. As he scanned another page, there was a quick rapping sound as Chris Frame knocked and came in. "Hey, Fraser, Ray. How are you two doing?"  
  
Ben answered first. "Better, thanks. How's Eddie?"  
  
"Started writing another book last night. I don't have any tours going out today, so I decided to get out of his way for a little while. Thought I'd come into town to do errands and see people."  
  
Ray folded the paper and sat forward. "What's the book about?"  
  
"You'll have to ask him."  
  
"You don't know?"  
  
"It's complicated. He can explain it better than I can." Before Ray could say anything else, Chris asked, "You been to the post office lately, Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, I was there earlier, why?"  
  
"Well, I was just there and Joe Morgan told me a whole truckload of boxes with your name on them just came in from Chicago."  
  
Ray scratched his head, smiling. "The stuff Stella sent weeks ago must've finally shown up."  
  
"And then some, buddy. There are about a dozen of the damn things and I'm not talking little boxes, either. He wanted me to see if I could get you to come sign for them today. He's afraid he won't have room to turn around if you don't clear the place out before the weekend."

Ray looked at Ben, hesitating, not sure what to do. Ben solved the problem. "Go, Ray. Get your things. I'll be fine."  
  
"You sure? I can go later."  
  
"No, go. Joe Morgan will want to free up that space as soon as possible. He's quite the stickler for order."  
  
"I dont know if they'll all fit in the Jeep."  
  
Chris broke in. "Not a problem. I've got the truck today. I'll drive you to pick the stuff up and I can take you out to the cabin if you want."  
  
"You don't have to do that."  
  
Chris shrugged. "I know, but when Eddie gets started on a new project, he doesnt want to see me home too early. Frankly, I'd like the company."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Wouldnt say it if I weren't."  
  
Ben suggested, "Why don't you two have supper together? Mimi's coming at seven and she's always prompt."  
  
"It shouldn't take that long."  
  
"I'm just saying that if it does, not to worry, Ray. Take your time. You need a respite from all this."  
  
"I'll take one of those respiwhatsis when you do, okay?"  
  
"I just meant "  
  
"I know what you meant, but shut up. We'll get the boxes and I'll be back lickety split, okay?"  
  
"As you wish, Ray."  
  
"And don't think you and Mimi are going to double team me, either, two against one. Not going to happen. I'm staying the night while I can."  
  
"Understood."  
  
"Better be." Ray stood up, his body achy from sitting so long, his leg complaining. "Wonder what Stella ended up sending."  
  
"I hope it's our cold weather gear."

"Yeah, me, too. Going to be freezing our asses off before too long. I mean, it's only the end of August and it's already cold at night again."

Chris chuckled. "You get used to it. Wait 'til September or October when you get your first snow."  
  
Ray shook his head, not really looking forward to the coming winter. "I hope I've got something to drive by then."  
  
"What about the Jeep?"  
  
"It's leased. I need to start looking around for a good 4-wheel drive truck or something."  
  
"Maybe we can do that sometime this week. There are a couple of good dealers in town."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Sure. Just let me know when you're free and we'll go check out the stock. Plus, I'll ask around, see if anyone's got something to sell."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem."

Ray leaned over, kissing Ben before he whispered, "I'll be back."  
  
"I know."

* * *

Boxes stacked in the back of the truck, they were nearly at the cabin before Chris finally broke down and asked, "So, who's Stella?"

"Wondered how long it would take before you asked."  
  
"I was hoping you'd volunteer the information."  
  
Ray stared out the window, not really in the mood for talking about Stella or about anything else for that matter. So, he kept it simple. "She's my ex."  
  
"Ex, huh?" When Ray didn't elaborate, Chris added, "Figures."  
  
"What's that mean?"  
  
"Nothing. It just explains a lot."  
  
Hackles up, Ray turned in the seat and kept his snarl in check, but just barely. "What the fuck does that mean, explains a lot? Explains what?"

"Don't get pissed."  
  
"I'm not pissed, not yet."  
  
"Well, good, because I'd hate to see you when you really got fired up."  
  
"Funny man. Keep this shit up and you're going to have a front row seat."  
  
Chris kept his eyes on the road mostly, but also stole a few glances sideways. "Look, I just meant that you came late to the party, that's all. It's tough when you're gay and you try to pass for so long."  
  
"You're full of shit, you know that?"  
  
"What'd I say?"  
  
"I wasn't passing for anything. I loved Stella."  
  
"I didn't say you didn't."  
  
"Sounded like it."  
  
"I just meant that sometimes even when you love somebody, it doesnt always work when you really need something else, you know?"  
  
"By something else, you mean a guy to fuck?"  
  
"I didn't mean it like that. Forget I said anything."  
  
Ray shook his head, not really sure why he felt the need to explain, but he did. "Stella was my first love, the girl of my dreams. Met her when I was thirteen and never really wanted anyone else. We got married when we were practically kids and stayed that way for fifteen years. I'd still be married to her if she hadn't dumped me."

"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. I never cheated on her, never thought I needed something or somebody else. Stella was my world, the whole shebang, the real deal."  
  
"So, what happened, if you don't mind my asking? I mean, if you loved her that much, why couldn't you work it out? Where'd Fraser come into the picture?"  
  
Ray straightened back around in the seat, arms crossed, his head pounding again. He watched the road ahead, wishing they'd get to the cabin soon so he didn't have to talk about all the personal shit in his life. "Long and short, I went undercover one time too many and got fucked up. Plus, she wanted another life, one I couldn't give her."  
  
"Sounds rough."  
  
"It was. As for Fraser, I can't explain it. It's not like Stella. I never thought I could love somebody more than her, but Fraser's it for me. It's like he knows me, gets me, wants me even when I fuck up and push him away."  
  
"Why would you push him away?"

"He deserves better."  
  
"Better than what? Better than you?"  
  
Ray rubbed his forehead with one hand, his headache even worse than before. "Can we drop this? No offence, but you're not a shrink and I don't feel like talking about all this shit right now."  
  
"Sure, not a problem."

After a few more minutes on the road, they pulled into the long driveway and Ray saw the renovated cabin for the first time. He whistled his approval. "Wow."  
  
"I'll second that. It looks great. Hell, you've even got a windmill in the back. Damn."  
  
"Damn?"  
  
"Yeah, that means Eddie's going to want one as soon as he hears about it."  
  
Tension eased, Ray laughed. "Does Eddie always get what he wants?"  
  
"Yeah, pretty much."

Ray chuckled as Chris parked the truck close to the front porch and turned off the engine. "He's got you under his thumb."  
  
"Yeah, pretty much." But the guy was smiling, so it wasn't like he cared who knew how much he loved his partner enough to let the guy push him around and run the show. "Where do you want the boxes, in the house or in the storage shed?"  
  
"In the house, I guess."  
  
"You got a key?"  
  
"It's not locked."  
  
Chris shook his head and laughed. "Welcome to Canada, every crook's wet dream. Can you imagine doing that in Chicago or Seattle?"  
  
"Forget about it. You'd get robbed blind."

"Damn right."

They both got out of the truck and started unloading the boxes. Some were heavy, others not so much. On the side of each container, Stella had listed the contents in her neat handwriting, all printed and clear, not like Ray's scribble that took a code breaker to read. She'd done a good job shipping the things she thought he'd need to start a new life. Way to go, Stella. Chris interrupted his thoughts. "Your ex is a State's Attorney?"  
  
"Assistant State's Attorney. Why?"  
  
"Just asking. Her names on the receipt. I guess that's why they didn't open and inspect all these at the border."  
  
"They do that?"  
  
"Yeah, mostly, especially when they come in a large shipment like this. Could be anything in there."  
  
Ray grabbed one of the boxes and headed inside, talking over his shoulder. "Well, all they'd find would be some old clothes and stuff. Not much to inspect."  
  
"You'd be surprised what people try to ship in without paying customs."  
  
"I'm not surprised by anything people try to get away with."  
  
Chris walked up next to him, carrying one of the larger boxes. "No, I guess not. Being a cop kind of opens a guy's eyes to what people are capable of."  
  
Ray opened the door and walked inside, not wanting to talk about being a cop or not being a cop. That was a different life now. He put the box down over by the window where they used to have the bed. Without furniture, the place looked a lot bigger. Stevie had built new shelves along one wall. Plus, there was a door to the new extension where the back wall had been. He walked through and pushed open the door to the bathroom. His jaw dropped and then he grinned. "Son of a bitch."  
  
Chris looked over his shoulder into the room. "Sweet."  
  
"You don't even know how sweet."  
  
"What do you mean?" 

Ray shook his head, still shocked at the resemblance. "Ben said he'd modeled the new can after the one we had in Chicago, but this could be a carbon copy." He grinned. "I dont know how he did it, but it's great."  
  
"Yeah, it'll be nice not to have to freeze your balls off this winter, that's for sure."

"Oh, yeah."  
  
Turning around, Ray checked out the new bedroom. It was about the same size as the other room, had a window on the outside wall and a new stone fireplace against the back wall. There was a closet and some extra shelves built in on the side nearest the bathroom. The wood walls and floors all matched the rest of the cabin and looked like they'd been there for years. "This is pretty amazing. The kid did a great job."  
  
"The kid?"  
  
"Yeah, Stevie Garvey."  
  
Chris snorted. "You call him the kid, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"Well, the kid, as you call him, doesn't normally take that shit. He's a little sensitive about looking fourteen, so he acts like a tough guy sometimes."  
  
"He never said anything to me about it."  
  
"I guess he likes you."  
  
Ray scratched his head, keeping the real reason to himself. Stevie liked Ben and let Ray take liberties because of it. "Guess we should get the other boxes."  
  
"Sure." 

By the time they unloaded the rest, Ray realized his days as a dock worker would've been numbered. His back and leg both complained like he was a broken old man.  
  
Chris put the last one down and looked around. "If you wanted, we could go back to the house and get your furniture. You guys don't have a lot, only one load. We could get it all set up. Then you could decide if you need to get other stuff, like new chairs or a desk maybe."  
  
"You think we need new chairs?"  
  
"Well, you don't have very much, just the sofa and one chair along with the table and the bed. Might need something now that you've got all this other space. Who knows, you might want to have people stop by from time to time. Might need a place to sit."  
  
"It's a little early to be planning a house warming party."  
  
"Better not let Eddie hear that. He's always up for stuff like that."  
  
"He's a weird kid."  
  
Chris laughed. "You call everybody a kid?"  
  
"When they look like one, yeah."  
  
Chris expression got more serious. "Actually, he's not that much younger than me."  
  
"Looks it."  
  
"Yeah, well, being a cop adds a few years."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Ray looked around and made a decision. "I think that's a good idea about getting the furniture out of the garage. It shouldn't take that long to bring it out here, right?"  
  
"An hour, hour and a half, tops."  
  
"Okay, let's do it."  
  
"You've got it."

Ray was glad to have a project, getting the place ready for Ben. It kept his mind busy and he didn't have to think about things he really didn't want to think about, things like bad dreams and snipers in the park.

* * *

Back at the house, they walked inside and Ray saw the flashing red light on the answering machine again. "Guess I need to check the messages and call Stella, let her know the stuff got here."  
  
"Sure. I need to use the john anyway."

"Go ahead. This shouldn't take long."  
  
Ray pushed the button and listened. _"Hey, Ray, it's Peter. Guess you're at the hospital, huh? Anyway, just wanted to let you know that Larry got the Goat fixed up, good as new. It looks great, just like before, not a bullet hole in sight. I really appreciate you giving it to me. You didn't have to. Tell Fraser we're all pulling for him to get decked out in his Mountie suit as soon as possible."_ There was a pause and then Peter added, _"Look, I was thinking about maybe coming up for a few days. You wouldn't have to put me up or anything, but I just need a break and Canada sounds about as good a place as any, you know? Anyway, I'll call you back later."_

Surprised, Ray listened to the message one more time. Something wasn't right. Peter hadn't mentioned Renny at all, something he always did when he called. Ray picked up the phone and punched in their number, but got an answering machine. " _This is Peter. I'm not available at the moment, so leave a message."_ Fuck, he'd even changed the greeting to one with no mention of Renny. That wasn't good, not good at all.

When the beep sounded, Ray said, "This is Ray. Call me back when you get a chance. Oh, and great news about the Goat. As for coming to Canada, you're welcome anytime. Later."  
  
Hanging up, Ray turned to see Chris standing in the doorway to kitchen. His friend asked, "Goat?"  
  
"Yeah, my GTO."  
  
"You've got a GTO?"  
  
"Used to, not anymore. Gave it away. Even with snow tires, it wouldn't be the best car to have up here in the winter."  
  
"You're probably right, but still "  
  
"Yeah, I know." Ray didn't want to talk about giving up his car, so he switched gears. "I still need to call Stella. Got a few minutes?"  
  
"Sure. I'll go start loading the truck. Take your time."  
  
"Thanks."

Ray punched in the number and then the extension. Stella's don't fuck with me while I'm at work voice came though the phone. _"Kowalski."_  
  
"Hey, Stella."

" _Ray_." In his head, he saw her lean forward as her tone softened. _"How's Fraser?"  
_  
"He's going to rehab tomorrow."  
  
 _"That's good, right?"_  
  
"I guess. They're kicking me out though. He has to do it on his own. They say I'd just get in the way and be a distraction."  
  
 _"If you think about it, that makes sense. But if he's ready for rehab, it shouldn't be much longer before he's released. You just have to be patient."_

"I'm no good at waiting, Stell, you know that."  
  
 _"Yeah, I know that. It's definitely not your best quality. Still, he's improving. That's got to be a big relief."_

"Yeah, it is. Look, I wanted to thank you for sending the stuff."  
  
 _"It finally got there? It sure took long enough. I sent it out three weeks ago."  
_  
"It's just as well it took a while. The cabin wasn't ready until this week anyway."

__

__

"The cabin's done?"  
  
"Yeah. It looks great. Now if I can get Ben out of the hospital, it'll be okay."  
  
 _"I hope so. By the way, I wanted to tell you, my nephew loves Turtle. He's taking really good care of him."_

"That's good to know. I miss the little guy."  
  
 _"I know you do, but he's got a good home, so you don't have to worry."_

Relieved about Turtle, Ray closed his eyes, his chest tight. He had to tell her one more thing, one more thing that he needed to talk about. "I got the papers, Stell."  
  
 _"Papers?"_  
  
"The disability came through. I'm not a cop anymore."  
  
 _"Isn't that what you wanted?"_

"I've only ever been a cop."  
  
 _"You'll be fine, Ray. You'll do something else, something that'll suit you better."  
_  
"Suit me better?"  
  
 _"Yes, something that won't hurt you in the process."  
_  
She had a point, and just to show her he was on the right track, he told her his latest news. "I sold a picture to a photography magazine."  
  
 _"You did?"_  
  
"Yeah. I might get an agent, take pictures for a living."  
  
Stella didn't answer right away, but after a long pause she spoke quietly. _"I'm happy for you, Ray. I hope it works out. You always liked taking pictures."_  
  
"Thanks." When she didn't say anything else, Ray made his excuses. "Look, I have to go. I've got a guy with a truck here to help me take the furniture back to the cabin. Then I've got to get back to the hospital. Just wanted to thank you for sending the gear. You sure you dont want any money? It must've cost a bundle to send all that stuff."  
  
 _"I'm sure. I have to go, too. I have a meeting in ten minutes. Tell Fraser I hope his rehab goes well."  
_  
"Yeah, I'll do that."  
  
 _"Bye, Ray."_  
  
"Bye, Stella."

When he hung up, he shuddered and closed his eyes. It was like talking to an old friend, any old friend, not the woman who'd filled his life for so many years. Now, she was totally separate, no longer part of him. He wasn't sure when that happened, and it scared him. If he could lose Stella like that, who knew what could happen between Ben and him? Before he had a chance to think any harder, Chris stuck his head in the door. "I could use a hand out here with the couch and mattress set. The rest is loaded."  
  
"Sure. Sorry I took so long."  
  
"Not a problem. Saves me from having to lift so many weights at the gym."  
  
Walking outside, Ray asked, "You got a gym?"  
  
"Yeah. Nothing fancy, but it's got atmosphere."  
  
"Hey, those are the best kind. Maybe when my leg gets better, I'll check it out. I've got to get in shape if I'm going to be wrestling bears in the woods and shit."  
  
Chris chuckled. "Wrestling bears? That's funny."  
  
"I just meant "  
  
"I know what you meant. Let me know when you're interested and I'll take you in to check it out. You box?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"They've got a ring. We could spar."  
  
Ray nodded and grinned. "Like we haven't been doing that already."  
  
"Yeah, but this would be with gloves."  
  
Ray glanced over at Chris, a guy who weighed in at two hundred pounds of nothing but muscle. "We're in different weight classes."  
  
"I'll take it easy on you."  
  
Ray picked up his end of the mattress while Chris got the other. "Doesn't matter. I think I can take you."

Chris grinned and shook his head. "With one hand tied behind your back, too, I'll bet."  
  
Ray answered the tease. "You've seen me fight, huh?"

"No, but if attitude counts, I'm toast."  
  
"Works for me."

They put the mattress on the truck and Chris used a rope to tie it in place. "I can do attitude, too, you know. I could wipe the floor with a scrawny guy like you."  
  
"You wanna bet?"  
  
"How much?"  
  
"I don't know. You've got to let me beef up a little, but when we do fight, I figure we could fight for dinner or something."  
  
"It's hard to eat with a fat lip."

Ray liked Chris, liked the way he came right back at him and didn't tiptoe around the crazy Yank like everybody else in town. He treated him like just another ex-cop, a guy who could take a punch or two and come back swinging. "We'll see who's got the fat lip after we fight."  
  
"Tell Fraser to have the bandages and ice handy. In the meantime, let's get the couch loaded and get this done."  
  
"Sounds good."

* * *

Later, at the hospital, Chris let Ray out at the front door. Ray thumbed toward the building. "You sure you don't want to come up for a while?"  
  
"That's okay. I need to get back, see if Eddie's had supper. He gets all wrapped up in his book and he forgets to eat sometimes."  
  
"Forgets to eat?"  
  
"Like you don't know what that's like."  
  
Ray didn't take offence, just shrugged. "Yeah, well, better get home then. Take it easy and thanks for the help."  
  
"Not a problem. I'll see you later. Tell Fraser I'll catch him next time. Mimi, too, if she's there."

"I will."  
  
As he drove off, Ray headed inside, anxious to see Ben. He got to the room in record time to find his partner sitting in a chair by the window. He'd only done that a few times since the shooting and it was great to see. "You're up."

"Yes. Nurse Thompson helped me. She said I should be sitting up more in preparation for the rehab center. We took a tour around the nurses' station as well."

"You walked around on your own?"  
  
"No. I had Nurse Thompson's help. She's actually much stronger than she looks."  
  
Ray stepped inside and shut the door. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You doing okay?"

"Just a bit winded."  
  
"That's to be expected. I mean, you havent really done much walking or moving around. You've got to build your strength back up."  
  
"I know that, Ray. It's just, well"  
  
"Frustrating?"  
  
"Frightfully so, yes. I feel so incredibly frail."  
  
"Weak as a kitten, huh?"  
  
"Yes. When I was shot before, I never felt quite so debilitated."  
  
"You've never been wounded like this before. Sure, you took a bullet in the back, but nothing like this. This is going to take some serious time."  
  
"I suppose intellectually I realized that, but emotionally, the impact of convalescence is a bit more than I anticipated."  
  
"You're doing great, Ben, considering the pneumonia knocked you for a loop and all. Other guys might not even have made it." 

Ben nodded, staring out the window, not meeting Ray's eyes. "I understand that."  
  
"Still doesn't make it go away though, huh?"  
  
Turning his head, Ben met his eyes. "It?"  
  
"Yeah, the whole, why me, I wish it'd never happened thing that goes on in your head. Been there, done that, still doing it sometimes."  
  
Ben studied him for a few moments and then nodded again. "Acceptance of one's circumstance is rather more difficult to obtain than one often imagines." He hesitated and licked his lower lip. "Im sorry, Ray."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For not realizing how difficult it must have been for you before."  
  
Eyes narrowing, Ray wasn't quite sure what Ben was getting at. "What are you talking about? You were there. You saw how bad it was."  
  
"I'm just saying that after your attack, you handled things exceptionally well considering the severity of your trauma. I never realized just how incredibly strong you are until this happened. I mean, I knew you had strength, but now I appreciate it on a whole new level."  
  
Ray stood up and paced a few times. "Stop this shit, okay? Im not all that strong. If I were, I wouldn't be such a mess right now. I'd still be a cop."  
  
"On the contrary, Ray, it's your strength that allowed you to realize you needed to resign. A weaker man might have tried to continue doing something that could endanger himself and others. You knew enough to give up something that you loved in order to heal."  
  
Confused, Ray scratched his head. "What are you saying here? What's going on? Have you decided to quit or something?"  
  
"No, I'm not resigning, though others might think that's the wiser choice."  
  
Ray stepped closer and pulled the other chair closer to Ben. He leaned in, knee to knee, taking Ben's right hand. "Did something happen while I was gone? Did somebody say something?"  
  
Ben squeezed his hand and shook his head. "I had a lot of time to think today, that's all."  
  
"I knew I should've stuck around."  
  
"Don't be silly. I haven't gone around the bend, as it were. I just realized for the first time that I'm not quite as resilient as I once believed. I think this whole experience has enlightened me a bit more to my own mortality."  
  
"So what you're saying is that you just figured out that you could kick off like anybody else, that you're not bulletproof?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"Well, that's something anyway."  
  
"It's not really a good feeling."  
  
"No, it's not, but it's an important feeling, Ben. And when you go back to work, you've got to keep it in your head. I won't be there to watch your back on the job anymore, and the thought of you running around jumping off buildings and chasing down bad guys with that daredevil attitude you get, scares the shit out of me."  
  
"Daredevil attitude? Surely you jest, Ray. I'm not the daredevil in the relationship."  
  
"Says who?"  
  
"Says me."  
  
"I guess you're forgetting all the shit you've pulled, huh, all the times you've walked around unarmed, catching knives in midair, making yourself a target when you didn't have to?"  
  
"Ray, you're exaggerating the risk. Besides, you were there all those times as well."  
  
"Yeah, but only because you went there first."  
  
Ben smiled, his tongue sneaking out across his bottom lip. "You have a valid point. I suppose upon reflection, one might suggest that I was a bit cavalier when it came to my own safety."  
  
"But that's over, right? You're turning over a new leaf, going to act like you've got some sense, and carry a gun for a change?"  
  
"Quite right. However, that's only if I qualify to return to service."  
  
Ray sat back, nodding, finally figuring it out. "That's what you're worried about. You think you won't be able to hack it anymore."  
  
"It took half an hour to go a few feet, Ray, and even then I could hardly breathe."  
  
"I know. It'll take time, that's all. You've got time."  
  
"Even so, there are no guarantees, Ray."  
  
"Never have been."  
  
"True."  
  
"You think too much." Ray leaned forward again, intense, and wanting to do everything he could to convince Ben that he'd be okay. "Look, I know it's hard, but you can do this. You've got to get your head in the game."  
  
"My head?"  
  
"Yeah, your head. You're the one who's always talking about attitude being the most important thing, the key to success and all that stuff. So, you've got to get your attitude adjusted."  
  
"And how to you suggest I do that, Ray?"  
  
"I think you should start seeing that Littlejohn guy you mentioned before, you know, the shrink that Eddie recommended."  
  
Ben starred back, obviously surprised. "You think I need to see a psychologist?"  
  
"You were going to go see him anyway, right? You can just start a little sooner." Before Ben could respond, Ray added, "Look, it works for you, and right now, you need somebody besides me to talk to. I get that."  
  
Ben used his right hand to rub the palm of his left one, something he'd started doing for the last week, ever since the feeling had slowly come back to the hand. "I have considered that."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"In fact, I mentioned it to Dr. Egan earlier. He thought it was a good idea as well."  
  
"You didn't say anything before. How come?"  
  
"I didn't want to upset you."  
  
"Upset me? Why would you seeing a shrink after being blasted and nearly killed upset me? I mean, most people need to see shrinks when shit like that happens."  
  
"But not you?"  
  
Ray gripped the sides of the chair, his body tight. "This isn't about me. It's about you. You want to see the shrink, do it."  
  
"I think I might."  
  
"Good, that's settled." Ray glanced over at the clock that said 7:30. "So, where's Mimi? She was supposed to be here at 7."  
  
"She was. I sent her home."  
  
"How come?"  
  
"I explained about the rehabilitation center's policy. She agreed that you should stay overnight since this would be our last night together for a while."  
  
"Saves me a fight."  
  
"I know." Ben's expression got even more serious. "She's worried about you, Ray."

"I know. She told me. She's a mom, that's what mom's do, do the whole worry wart thing."  
  
"I think it's more than that. I think she's genuinely concerned about your health, as am I."  
  
"You worry too much, too." Ray leaned in, cupping Ben's face as he teased. "Might have to start calling you Mum."  
  
"You do and we'll likely find out just how strong I really am very quickly."  
  
Laughing, Ray got the joke. "You think you can take me, Mountie?"  
  
"I think given a bit more time to recuperate, we'll both find out."  
  
"See? That's the spirit. Threatening bodily harm, that's a good start."

Ben finally relaxed and returned Ray's smile. "You're quite mad, Ray."  
  
Ray whispered, "Mad about you." Then he leaned in far enough to kiss Ben gently on the lips. When he pulled back, he asked, "Feeling better?"  
  
"Much."  
  
"Good. So, you ready to get back in bed yet?"  
  
"No, not yet."  
  
"You had supper?"  
  
"Mimi brought more stew and biscuits."  
  
"Your favorite."  
  
"Yes, it is." Ben tilted his head as he spoke. "You were gone quite a while. Did you open your boxes?"  
  
"No, but they're in the cabin. So's the rest of the furniture. Chris helped get it all moved back out there."  
  
"That was nice of him."  
  
"Yeah, it was." Ray rubbed his chin, not sure how to tell Ben what he was thinking, but figuring it best to come right out and ask. "Have you heard from Renny lately, maybe sometime when I wasn't around?"  
  
"Of course not, Ray. If he'd called, I would've told you. Why? Is something wrong?"  
  
"I'm not sure. Peter called and left a message. Said something about coming up here for a while. He didn't say anything about Renny coming, too. Then when I called back, I found out he's changed the message on his answering machine."  
  
"Changed it how?"  
  
"From 'Renny and I aren't available' to 'I'm not available.' Makes me think they might be having problems or something."  
  
"Oh, dear, that doesn't sound right at all."  
  
"You think they broke up?"  
  
"I would hope that Renny would know he could tell us if that happened."  
  
"Or at least tell you. Of course, we could just be jumping the gun. They might be perfectly fine, but "  
  
"You don't think so."  
  
"No, I think something's wrong. I left a message for Peter to call."  
  
Ben shook his head, upset about the news. "Poor Renny, he really loves Peter. He'd be devastated if their relationship ended."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. Maybe tomorrow we'll call and see what's what."  
  
"That's a good idea, Ray, though we should try to be a bit more subtle than asking straight out."  
  
"Subtle? With Renny?"  
  
Ben smiled weakly and shrugged. "Good point. Subtlety isn't his strong suit. Still, I worry about how he'd handle the dissolution of his relationship with Peter."  
  
"Yeah, me, too."  
  
"Let's hope it's just all an unfortunate misunderstanding."  
  
Ray took a deep breath, figuring he didn't need to say what they were both thinking, that if Renny and Peter broke up, it wouldn't be pretty in Mountie land for Turnbull anytime soon.

* * *

The night lasted a couple of years until morning. Ray jerked awake so many times he gave up trying to sleep after midnight. The icy trace of bloody lips to his own lingered and made him shudder, made him remember horrible things he couldn't let himself think about. So, instead of snoozing, he walked the halls, drank coffee, and talked to the nurses until the shift changed around seven. When he returned to the room, Ben opened his eyes. "You didn't sleep well."

"Bad night, that's all."  
  
"Nightmares?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Would you like to talk about them?"  
  
"God no." Ray sat down, rubbing his eyes with heel of both hands. 

"They're getting progressively worse."  
  
"I know. At least I'm not screaming myself awake like I used to. That's something." Ray sat up, shook himself all over, and took a deep breath. "I think this whole business of rehab is making me a little crazy."  
  
"Crazy how?"  
  
"Separation anxiety or something. Just thinking about not being able to be there makes me twitchy."  
  
"You've always been somewhat twitchy, Ray."  
  
"I know that, I know that, but this is different. This is like how I used to get right before I went undercover, all jumpy, like I can't sit still." He turned toward Ben. "You don't think they could make some kind of exception or something, let me stay? I mean, you're a Mountie. Doesn't that count for something?"  
  
"Im sure it counts for a great many things, Ray. Unfortunately, it has no bearing whatsoever on my rehabilitation and the rules of the center. I'm sorry."

Sighing, disappointed, Ray sat back, exhausted. "I suck."  
  
"Hardly."  
  
"No, I do. I suck. Here you've got all this shit in front of you and I'm making it all about me. I'll shut up about it. I know they're just doing what they have to do to get you back on your feet. I just wish I could do more, that's all."

"Your anxiety is understandable, Ray. You have control issues that have been severely tested over the last few weeks. I, too, find myself somewhat fretful over the future."  
  
"Control issues? You think I've got control issues?"  
  
"All of us want to control our lives, our destiny, as it were. Right now, you, like myself, are dependent on others for a great deal more than you're used to. We're both extremely independent people. This isn't easy for either of us."  
  
Ray blinked a few times at that. He'd never really thought about his reactions like that before, not really. When he'd been with Stella, it wasn't about control. He just did what she wanted, kept his head down, and hoped for the best. With Fraser, it was totally different, more of a tradeoff, each taking a turn at calling the shots. Now, neither of them had much of a say about anything that mattered and it really made him edgy. He confessed, "I fucking hate this, hate it."  
  
"I know."

"Nothing I can do about it, though. We're stuck."  
  
"Not stuck so much as stalled." Ben cleared his throat and added, "I'm afraid at this juncture, I need to use the urinal."

Ray got up and fetched the container, handing it to Ben. "You want me to wait outside?"  
  
"I've given up on any notion of privacy weeks ago. However, if you'd hold the sheet up, I'd appreciate it. Urinating one-handed is fairly awkward."  
  
"I so get that." Ray held up the sheet so that Ben had room to do what he needed to do. "When I had the broken arm, it was like that."  
  
When Ben finished, he handed the urinal back to Ray, who disposed of it quickly. He rinsed it out and then washed his hands, too. He returned to the bedside in a few minutes. "Feel better?"  
  
"Much, thank you kindly."  
  
"You're welcome."

Ben patted his hand. "Things will return to normal eventually, Ray. It'll just take time and patience." Ray snorted and Ben asked, "What?"  
  
"That's what Stella said just yesterday."  
  
"You talked to Stella?"  
  
Ray ran a hand through his hair, still nervous and unsettled. "Yeah, I called and thanked her for sending all the stuff. Anyway, she said the same thing about being patient."

"She knows you well."  
  
"Yeah, but not like you."  
  
"You were together a long time, Ray. She "  
  
"Doesn't know me better than you do. It's not about how long a person knows somebody, but how well they get the other person." Ray stared at his partner, his body tired, his heart achy. "I love you, Ben, more than I ever thought I could love somebody, even Stella."  
  
"I love you, too, Ray."

Ray leaned against the rail, his hand cupping Ben's cheek. "We'll get through this."  
  
Ben captured the hand at his face. "I know."  
  
Before Ray leaned over to kiss him, the nurse came in. "Good morning, gentleman. Constable, would you like to sit up in a chair before I bring in your breakfast?"

"I'd like that very much, yes."  
  
"Good." She turned her attention to Ray. "Would you like to help me, Ray?"  
  
"Sure, sure, just show me what to do." 

* * *

Ray put the three pairs of sweats, the T-shirts, and the Reeboks on the counter of the Trading Post. Gus asked, "Is that all?"  
  
Pulling out the list Ben gave him, Ray checked the items off in his head. "No, I need some swim trunks, too."  
  
"You wore out those other trunks you bought already?"  
  
Ray looked up from the list and shook his head. "No, I need these for Fraser. He's going into rehab today and needs the trunks for the pool, none of those skimpy spandex things, either. He needs the real thing. You got any Mountie red in the back?"  
  
"I'll have to check. What size?"  
  
"Large, I guess. He doesn't like things tight." Ray added, "What about pajamas? Where would I find those?"  
  
"Back with the underwear along the bottom shelf."  
  
Ray headed to the rear of the store, found a nice pale blue striped pair and got them. Ben never wore pajamas at home, but it was too hot for the union suit and sleeping nude at rehab wasn't an option. Plus, if he never saw another hospital gown, it'd be too soon. Ray added the pajamas to the stack as Gus came back and asked, "What about these?"  
  
They weren't serge red, but more of a maroon color. "Good enough. You got another pair?"  
  
"I thought you might say that." Gus put both pairs of the trunks on Ray's stack. "It's the end of the season, so they're two for one."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Sure I'm sure. Anything else?"  
  
Ray grabbed a couple of rolls of Rolaids and threw them onto the pile. Maybe they'd help with the nonstop heartburn he'd had lately. "Guess that's it. Ring her up."  
  
As Gus started adding up the total, he talked. "I'm glad Constable Fraser's doing well enough to do rehab. Any timetable yet on when he'll get out?"  
  
"Not really, maybe a couple of weeks more."  
  
"It's been a long time."  
  
"Yeah, it has."

Gus hesitated before he said, "I still have nightmares about what happened that day. Never seen anybody get shot like that before."  
  
Ray didn't want to talk about the shooting. He just kept his eyes on the register and didn't say anything. Silence must have clued Gus in on Ray's mood, so the old guy didn't push it. He gave Ray the total and Ray paid him in cash. 

While Gus put the things in a bag, he apologized. "I didn't mean to bring it up. Sorry. You need anything, Ray, just let me know."  
  
"I'm fine, thanks."  
  
Ray got his bags and headed out the door. His mood lightened when he looked across the street and saw Jeremy and Dief standing in front of Mimi's cafe. He walked across and had an armful of wolf before he even got a chance to say hello. Dief went all out, licks and paws everywhere. Ray laughed, weirdly delighted to have wolf slobber all over his face. "It's good to see you, too." He ruffled the fur, chuckling. "How've you been, buddy?"  
  
"He's been really great, Ray."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Jeremy wasn't smiling. In fact, he looked really depressed. Ray shoved Dief down and petted his head as he spoke. "What's up?"  
  
"He wants to come home."  
  
Ray glanced at the wolf and back at the boy. "How do you know that?"  
  
"He told me."  
  
The hair on the back of Ray's neck stood up as he studied the twelve-year-old. Ben talked to Dief all the time, but nobody else did, not even Ray. "You speak wolf?"  
  
"He didn't **tell me** tell me, not like that. He just started acting funny, like he wanted to leave. My mom says Constable Fraser's going to the rehab center today. That true?"  
  
"Yeah, it is."  
  
"Then that must be it. He knows."  
  
"Knows what?"  
  
"That you need him again. I mean, Mom says you won't be in the hospital all the time now and maybe Dief knows that. He knows where he belongs." Jeremy reached over and petted the wolf's head, the boy's face long and sad. "I'll miss him, but it's not right to keep him if he wants to go home."  
  
Ray gut tightened, his eyes stinging. He didn't know what to say to the boy or to the wolf. He cleared his throat and tried to sound tough. "Look, I appreciate you taking care of him for us. It means a lot when you can trust a person with that kind of responsibility, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I'll have my own dog by Christmas."  
  
"You mean Lucy's pup?"  
  
"Yeah, it takes nine weeks for her to have pups and then another eight to twelve for the pup to be ready to leave his mom. I figure that should be around Christmas. Besides, school starts back soon and I won't have as much time to mess around with Dief. He needs a lot of attention or he gets into messes."  
  
Ray ruffled Dief's fur affectionately again and nodded, "Yeah, he is kind of spoiled."  
  
"But he's a great wolf. Im going to miss him."  
  
"You don't have to. You're welcome to come visit anytime."  
  
"Thanks. I might do that."  
  
"Sure. We'll all hang out and just talk planes and cars and stuff."

"And I can sit with him again if you need me to, okay?"  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
Jeremy petted Dief and then kneeled down to give him a big hug. Dief licked his face and whined a goodbye. The boy stood up, his eyes all red, but acting like he was all grown up instead of just a kid. "I've got to go help Mom. I'll see you guys later, okay?"  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
"Tell Constable Fraser I said hi."  
  
"I will."  
  
Jeremy walked away and Ray stood there, holding his packages, Dief at his feet. He patted the top of the wolf's head. "Come on, buddy. I'll take you back to the house before I head to the hospital."

* * *

Taking a stubborn wolf anyplace he didn't want to go was asking for trouble. At the house, Dief refused to get out of the Jeep, so Ray just gave up. He hurried inside, grabbed Ben's journal from the lockbox, and then drove on back to the hospital. He parked and turned in the seat. "You can't go in, you know that, right?"  
  
Dief woofed and whimpered, begging to go inside with him. Ray didn't need a wolf-to-English dictionary to get the message. "Look, I'd take you inside if I could, but I can't. You'll just have to stay out here for a while."  
  
Ray rolled the window down so that Dief could get some air and then got out, grabbing the packages, too. Dief jumped out through the window opening and walked along beside him. Ray put his foot down and used his cop voice. "You **can't** go in."  
  
Dief just kept walking, not paying the least bit of attention. Ray wondered if he went up the back stairs if they could at least sneak just a quick visit in before Ben took off to the rehab center. Ben hadn't seen Dief for over a month. Surely, the nurses would have a heart for a couple of minutes. The only thing they could do would be throw his ass out, right?  
  
"Okay, okay, but listen, you have to be super stealthy, like the sneakiest wolf ever. You can do that, right, be smart and hang back until the coast is clear?"  
  
Dief tilted his head, looking at him like Ray had forgotten who he was talking to. "All right then. We'll go in through the back stairs. You stay in the shadows and I'll open the door when I can."  
  
Ben was alone in the room, sitting in his chair, dressed in sweats. His face pale, Ben looked up when Ray entered. "I'm glad you're here. I'm being transported in the next hour or two."  
  
"That soon?"  
  
"Apparently, they want to get me settled in, as it were, before we start any actual therapy."  
  
Ray put the packages on the bed. "At least they didn't take you away while I was gone."  
  
"I was afraid they might."  
  
"Not a chance. Hey, I've got a surprise. Close your eyes."  
  
"Surprise?"  
  
"Yeah. Hurry up, close your eyes."  
  
As soon as Ben did that, Ray checked around every corner and, easy as you please, got the wolf into the room. He closed the door while Dief did the whole wolf spit thing all over his partner. Ben's voice came out tight and ragged as he buried his face in white fur. "Diefenbaker. Dear god, I've missed you." 

Ray didnt say a word as he watched the reunion. It made his chest tight, but happy to see those two together. It wasn't normal for them to be separated any more than it was right to keep Ben and Ray apart. Diefenbaker patiently let Ben get his fill and then raised a head with a little yip. Ben sat up, smiling. "Yes, I know. It's very good to see you as well even if it is against the rules."  
  
"I should've done it sooner."  
  
"You shouldn't have done it at all, though, I must confess I'm rather glad you did."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes." 

Ben petted Dief again, but his smile faded a little when Dief whined and snuffled a few times. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." Another woof and Ben added, "It was terribly thoughtless, that's true. I'll endeavor not to do it again."  
  
"What's he going on about?"  
  
"He's upset about my injury."  
  
"Yeah, I get that. Ask him how come he took up with the kid."  
  
Ben shook his head, all the time fingering Dief's fur. "I don't have to ask. He stayed with Jeremy because, at the time, Jeremy needed him the most. Witnessing the shooting was terribly traumatic for the boy."  
  
"But he doesn't think Jeremy needs him now?"  
  
"Apparently not, no. Now he thinks you do."  
  
Dief's wolfie eyes pinned Ray on the spot. Hell, when he had a mind to, the wolf could stare almost as hard as Ben. Ray shifted from foot to foot a few times. "Not that I'm complaining, but why's he think that? I mean, how did he even know this was the day you were going into rehab?"  
  
"He's a wolf, Ray."  
  
"That doesn't make him psychic."  
  
"Perhaps not, but his instinct has been uncannily precise in many instances, more times than can be explained by pure science."  
  
Ray snorted, not sure if Ben was serious or not. "I thought I was the one who got shot in the head." 

"I'm just saying that I trust his instincts as much as I trust yours."  
  
Suddenly serious, Ray sat down on the bed. "Yeah? You trust him that much, huh?"  
  
"Absolutely, so, when he tells me he needs to be with you for now, then I believe him."  
  
"He happen to mention why?"  
  
"He doesnt want you to be lonely." Diefenbaker looked first at Ray and then back at Ben before he made a couple of little barks and yippy sounds. "Oh, and he wants you to move back to the cabin. He thinks it'll be safer there."  
  
"Safer?"  
  
"I'm not sure why he thinks that, but I do trust his judgment. Besides, I've been thinking you should move back as well."  
  
"We discussed this already. I want to move back when you do."  
  
"I understand that. However, I like to think of you in our home, smashing it in, as it were."  
  
"Smashing it in?" Ray thought a moment and then snorted in amusement. "You mean breaking it in, not smashing it in."  
  
"That's it, breaking it in. I want it to be comfortable and lived in, Ray. I want to think of you there with Diefenbaker, perhaps working on your art or your photography. Thinking about you in our home helps motivate me to recuperate even faster so that I might join you sooner."

"Really?"  
  
"Yes. I know it's selfish of me, but I'd like for you to move in and get it ready for my arrival."  
  
Surprised, Ray wasn't quite sure if he was ready to move out there all alone except for the wolf. He'd always imagined himself living there with Ben. Still, if that's what Ben wanted, maybe he should go along. "Well, we have kind of taken advantage of Mimi's daughter, staying in her house and everything."  
  
"Has she complained?"  
  
"No, I'm just saying, you might have a point."  
  
"Then you'll consider it?"  
  
"Sure, I'll consider it." Before he said anything else, the door opened and Dr. Egan stepped in. He stopped dead when he saw Diefenbaker. He shook his head and sighed, "I must be getting old. I'm having hallucinations. I'm seeing an unauthorized wolf in your hospital room."  
  
Ray stood up, counting off and then snapping his fingers as he spoke. "Close your eyes and, one, two, three, he'll vanish."  
  
Amused, Egan grinned and thumbed at the door. "Better than that, I'll step to the nurses' desk. When I get back, he's gone, all right?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
When the doctor stepped out, Ray motioned for Dief to follow. The wolf whined, licked Ben's face once more for good measure and followed Ray out to the stairwell. He grabbed Dief's face so that he could see Ray's lips. "Go back to the Jeep. I'll meet you there later."  
  
Dief jerked away and headed down the stairs. Ray knew the wolf could use the lever on the exit door to leave the building, so he wasn't worried about Dief doing what he said. Such a smart wolf could be a handful, but inside Ray was more than a little glad to have him back. Maybe Ben was right, the wolf had instincts. Ray knew the next few weeks would be hell and Dief was there to help get him through the waiting. God, how he hated waiting.

* * *

"Solo sucks."  
  
Sitting in the hospital chair across from Ray, Ben looked up and cocked his head sideways. "Solo?"  
  
"After being a duet, solo sucks. I hate this separation thing. Seems like everybody in the world has a say about whether we're together or not except us."

Ben nodded in agreement. "I does seem that way at times. However, it should be over shortly. As soon as I'm discharged from rehabilitation, we should be able to resume our life together."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"You don't?"  
  
"I don't know. It's like we haven't had a chance to be together together for so long, it'll be hard to believe that things will work out."

Sighing heavily, Ben reached out and took Ray's hand. "It's been difficult. You'll get no argument from me about that. With the situation as it is, it might be a while before we actually are able to assess the full impact of the shooting as well as your career change on our lives. Still, we'll have one another and we'll adjust. You're nothing if not adaptable, Ray."  
  
Ray stared at Ben like he'd lost his mind. "Adaptable? Me? You're kidding, right?"  
  
"Not at all. Given what we've survived, I've found you to be extremely flexible."  
  
"Kicking and screaming, maybe."  
  
"Ray, you've embarked on a whole new life to be with me, giving up your home, your career, your family. How can you say you're not flexible?"  
  
Squeezing Ben's hand, Ray released it and sat back in the chair. "I didn't just do it for you, Ben. I did it for me, too."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"What do you mean, how so? Don't you know I love you?"  
  
"Of course I know that."  
  
"Then how can you do the _how so_ thing? I mean, you know why we left Chicago. That was more me than you. Sure it works out that you're home again and that's great, but it honest to god wouldn't matter to me if we were in the middle of nowhere anyway. It's not about that. It's about me being with you. I guess that's why I'm having a hard time with you taking off, even if it's just to another building. It's like being deserted or something."  
  
"I'm not deserting you, Ray, and certainly not by choice."  
  
Standing up, Ray walked around the room, pacing with his arms wrapped around his middle. "I know that. It's not you, it's me. I just feel all twitchy about being alone right now. I know that sounds all needy and I'm a big wuss, but it's how I feel."  
  
"You're not needy or weak. The intensity of the last few months has increased our dependency on one another. Now, suddenly, we're being forced to be apart. I feel a bit twitchy as well."  
  
Ray sat on the edge of the hospital bed, but he kept his arms around himself, held himself together for Ben. "You twitchy? You never get twitchy, not like me, like your insides are going to shake apart, like your head's going to explode into a kazillion pieces, little pieces of brainy bits all over the fucking wall."  
  
"Perhaps I've never felt it, not quite as intensely as you, but I do feel anxious. I don't know what the next few weeks will hold, but I suspect nothing very pleasant. On the other hand, I do know that I've survived and that you'll be there for me when I'm ready to come home."  
  
"You bet."  
  
They remained quiet for a few moments before Ray asked, "They already transport your stuff?"  
  
"Yes. They should be sending someone for me momentarily."  
  
Running a hand through his hair, Ray stood up and leaned over, careful of Ben's arm as he hugged him. Then they kissed, Ray taking his time, Ben's mouth slow to respond, but then getting into it. After a few minutes, Ray stopped and stood up. "I wanted to do that before we got an audience."  
  
"I think everyone is pretty well informed about our relationship, Ray."  
  
"I know that, but no reason to give people a show."  
  
"Understood."  
  
Before Ray answered, the door opened and an unfamiliar orderly came in with a wheelchair. "Benton Fraser?"  
  
Ben raised his good hand. "Here."  
  
"I've got orders to transport you to the rehabilitation center. You ready?"  
  
"Certainly." 

Ray watched as the guy came closer and Ben got into the chair. Once there, they made eye contact. Ray forced a smile. "You'll do great. I'll see you tonight."  
  
The orderly answered, "Not tonight. He won't be allowed visitors until tomorrow night between 7 and 9."  
  
Pissed, Ray snapped, "Why not tonight?"  
  
"They never allow visitors the first night. They like patients to get settled in, get a routine first."  
  
"Fuck that."  
  
"Ray, language."  
  
"Fuck language, Ben. Nobody said anything about this."  
  
The orderly tried to make nice. "It's only one night, sir. You can see him tomorrow."  
  
"He's right, Ray. I'll see you then."  
  
"It still sucks, Ben. It's like a conspiracy or something."  
  
"It's not a conspiracy, Ray. I'll be fine."  
  
Tamping down his anger, Ray nodded, pushing down the panic. "I know. I'll be there, seven on the dot tomorrow night. Got it?"  
  
"I do, yes."  
  
Before the orderly took off, Ray reached out and touched Ben's shoulder. "You can do this, Ben."  
  
Ben didnt answer as the guy wheeled him away, just gave Ray a little half smile that didn't do a thing but convince Ray that Ben was as scared shitless as he was.

* * *

Ray couldn't decide what to do first, go to the house and finish packing up everything or go to the cabin and unpack the boxes Stella had shipped from Chicago. He settled on going to the house first. Once there, he and Dief went inside, the wolf being uncharacteristically quiet. Ray noted the flashing light on the telephone answering machine, but ignored it. He wasn't in the mood to return messages or whine to anybody about feeling like the losing end of a train wreck. 

What he really wanted was a drink, something to calm his nerves, but he wasn't ready for that slippery slope just yet. Instead, he went into the bedroom and stripped off the linen. He figured he'd do all the laundry, clean out the refrigerator, and then return the key to the house to Mimi. It was time to clear out, head out to the cabin and do what Ben wanted, get it set up for when he finally got cut loose from rehab.

With Dief watching his every move, Ray loaded the washing machine and then emptied the refrigerator while doing the dishes. Sleeves rolled up, he kept his mind on the task of getting the place as spic and span as when they first got there, before the shooting, before Ray did the slob routine and let the place go like he was some bum who couldn't pick up after himself. Mimi had come in a few times to clean up, but in between, he'd really done a number on the kitchen. It took a couple of hours, but by the time he finished, he had everything folded, packed, and ready to go.

Ray wiped the sweat off his forehead and took one final look around the place, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Then he saw the flashing light again and figured he might as well bite the bullet and see who'd left messages. The first one was from Chris asking if he wanted to go look for a something to drive. He had a lead on a couple of local trucks and a Jeep that might be right price-wise. The second was from Eddie who invited him to supper. The third was from Renny, but it was hard to tell at first, because it was pretty obvious he'd been crying. Ray picked up the phone and dialed the Chicago number first. 

Renny answered on the second ring. _"Renfield Turnbull. How might I help you?"  
_  
"Hey, Renny, what's up?  
  
Ray heard the long sigh of relief. _"Oh, Ray, is that you?"_  
  
"Yeah. I got your message."

__

__

"How's Constable Fraser?"  
  
"He's doing okay, up and around, moving better. They transferred him from the hospital to rehab. I can't see him until tomorrow night, which sucks, but I figure in a couple of weeks, he'll be home. He'll be doing the Mountie thing again in no time."  
  
 _"I'm glad. You two have been through so much. I wish I could have been there to help. Things have just been so hectic here, I couldn't leave."_

"I know that. Look, you didn't call just to ask about Fraser. What's wrong?"  
  
After a slight hesitation, Renny asked, _"Have you heard from Peter?"  
_  
"A little while ago, yeah. I left a message but he didn't call back."  
  
 _"Oh, Ray, I don't know what to do."_  
  
Ray could see Renny in his mind, rubbing his face, fighting back another bout of tears. "What happened?"  
  
 _"I left him. It's over between us."_  
  
Ray wasn't surprised, but felt bad just the same. "I'm sorry."  
  
 _"Thank you, but that's not the immediate problem. I'm worried about him. Ray. He just took off. He didn't tell me or anybody at his work where he was going or how long he'd be gone. He just took an indefinite personal leave. I went by his house, but found no clues as to his whereabouts."  
_  
"Which car did he take?"

__

__

"He didn't take any of his cars."

Ray pinched the bridge of his nose as he figured things out in his head. He wasn't happy with the picture he was getting, either. "Did you check the airport?"  
  
 _"No. Do you think I should?"_  
  
"I think he might be on his way here."  
  
 _"To Yellowknife?"_  
  
"He said something about coming up for a visit."  
  
 _"Thank god."_ After a few moments, Renny added, _"Maybe that's the best thing."  
_  
"Why's that?"  
  
 _"Maybe talking to you will help him straighten out some of his confusion."_  
  
"Confusion about what?"  
  
 _"About many things, one of which is his drinking."  
_  
"Drinking?"  
  
 _"It's one of the reasons why I left him."  
_  
Fuck. Ray sat down at the table, rubbing his forehead, not really wanting to hear about another friend going over the edge with a booze bottle in his hand. "You think he's got a problem?"  
  
 _"He denies it, but then he would, wouldn't he? That's what alcoholics do, deny, lie, and make excuses. Look, Ray, please, if he does arrive there, call and let me know. I've been quite frantic."_  
  
There was something missing from the Renny/Peter puzzle, something Renny was holding out about. "What is it you're not telling me? This is about more than Peter hitting the bottle and taking off for a few days."  
  
Ray heard the hesitation, the long pause as Renny considered the question. Finally, Renny answered softly, _"I can't give details because it wouldn't be fair to Peter to discuss it, but I worry about him. I still love him, Ray, but he has a serious problem he refuses to address. Until he does, I can't be with him. Would you please just call me and let me know he's safe if he should arrive there?"  
_  
"Sure, I can do that." Ray took a deep breath. "What about you? You doing okay? The Ice Queen making your life hell or what?"  
  
 _"On the contrary, Inspector Thatcher has been inordinately kind through this transition period. She's been extremely supportive since I left Peter and, in addition, has given me the opportunity to take on more responsibility at the Consulate."_  
  
"That's good, I guess."  
  
Renny's voice dropped to nearly a whisper. _"It's hard to imagine, but Inspector Thatcher has become quite the confidante, Ray. I dont know what I would've done the last few weeks without her. We've all been so distraught about Fraser and then along with my situation with Peter, well, it would've been far too much without Meg."  
_  
Ray sat up straighter, a sick feeling in his gut. "Meg?"  
  
 _"Inspector Thatcher."_  
  
"I know who Meg is. I just can't believe you called her that."  
  
 _"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's just, well, she's become rather a friend to me, Ray. When we're off duty, she allows me to call her that."  
_  
"You're kiddin' me."  
  
 _"I assure you, it's quite true. She's not at all the cold-hearted, straight-laced person I once thought her to be. We've had some rather intimate and personal exchanges of late. I'm indebted to her for her support during such an emotionally fraught time."_  
  
Ray cleared his throat, not wanting to think what he was thinking, but making himself ask. "You're keeping your clothes on, right, Renny?"  
  
 _"My clothes?"_  
  
"I mean, you're an easy target right now, on the rebound and all. She's not making any moves on you, is she?"  
  
Renny actually gasped in surprise. _"Ray, nothing untoward has happened. She's just a good friend. There's nothing romantic between us. As you well know, I'm strictly homosexual."  
_  
"I know that, but does she?"  
  
 _"Ray, please, Inspector Thatcher is my commanding officer. Even if I were so inclined, which I most certainly am not, a romantic liaison between us would be completely inappropriate."_  
  
Ray held back for an instant, but then shook his head, determined to say what had to be said. "Just be careful, Renny. I've seen this woman in action. Sure, she helped Fraser get the transfer, but before I came into the picture, she also wanted to jump his bones, ride 'em cowboy, Mountie-style, if you know what I'm sayin'." Before Renny protested, Ray added, "You're a good looking guy and the woman has a thing for handsome men in uniform. I'm just saying you shouldn't get too cozy, if you get my drift."  
  
 _"I assure you that your suspicions are unfounded, but I appreciate your concern."_

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you if she makes a pass. You're vulnerable right now. It'd be just her style. If you turn her down, well, things could get wonky, get really sticky in a bad way. She's not a woman who takes no for an answer and just bows out gracefully."  
  
 _"Ray, Ray, Ray, I don't know where you get these strange notions."  
_  
"Experience, pal."  
  
 _"Perhaps, but it's been my experience that trust is a far more soothing companion."  
_  
"Have it your way, but don't say I didn't warn ya."  
  
" _Ray "  
_  
"Look, I have to go. If Peter shows up, I'll call and let you know."  
  
 _"Thank you. Tell Constable Fraser I'll pray for him."  
_  
"Yeah, you do that." Ray hung up, shaking his head, wondering how long it would be before he got the phone call about how Thatcher fucked over the poor guy. From the sound of things, it'd be sooner rather than later. He never did trust the Ice Queen as far as he could spit her. Renny wouldn't stand a chance against her if she put her nasty mind to getting into his britches, bitch.

He scrubbed his mind of that image the best he could and called up Eddie and Chris's place. Eddie answered the phone, _"Banks here."_  
  
"Hey, Eddie. How's the book coming?"  
  
 _"Great, man. I've gotten four chapters done and I'm taking a break. How about you? You get Fraser settled in rehab?"  
_  
"Yeah, but I can't see him until tomorrow."  
  
 _"Bummer. So, you coming for supper? We're having chili and burgers. It's my mom's recipe. It'll warm you up in places you didn't even know you had."_

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm going to the cabin. Ben wants me to get it ready for later. Thought I'd get started."  
  
 _"Sure, okay. What about looking for a car? Chris has this friend who knows a guy who knows another guy who "_  
  
Impatiently, Ray cut him off. "Maybe another day. I've got the Jeep for a few more weeks if I want it, so there's no hurry. Tell him I'll call about it later, okay?"

__

__

"I'll do that. Listen, Ray, anytime you just want to come by or just want to talk, we're here, man. You don't need an invitation."  
  
"Thanks. I appreciate that."  
  
 _"And if you need any help at the cabin, let me know. I want to check out the windmill anyway, man. Chris says it's sweet. I'm thinking of asking Stevie to put one in for us. It'd help with the energy bills come winter."  
_  
"Might be better to talk to Ben about that later. I dont know much about any of that stuff."  
  
 _"Sure, that makes sense. Well, guess I'll see you later then."  
_  
"Right, later."  
  
Ray hung up, sat down, and had Dief move in closer, his head in his lap. His fingers buried in the fur, Ray sighed heavily, thinking about living in the cabin without Ben, even for a few weeks. "Guess we can't put it off any longer." Dief rubbed his muzzle against Ray's leg and made a couple of short whiny sounds. "I know. It'll be okay. Ben'll be home soon. Then things will be okay again, I promise."

* * *

Ray skipped going to the diner to hand over the keys. He just couldn't see himself dodging hugs and kisses and listening to Mimi go on and on about how he needed to eat more, not right then, not when all he wanted to do was crawl in a bottle and sleep a few dozen years. It was dangerous thinking, he knew that, but his brain just ran in circles, screaming and cussing. He just needed to get away, be by himself, and get his head straight. Ben deserved better than being hooked up with somebody about to fly apart into a million pieces, a needy fuck who couldn't even take care of himself, much less Ben. No, Ray had to make sure Ben had a great place to come home to, so he squared his shoulders and promised himself to do whatever it took to get things ready. _Pitter patter, time to get at her_. Ray was on his way to see if he could get the homestead ready. Fat chance, but by god, he'd give it his best shot.

Out at the cabin, Ray made the bed first and then hung up the curtains, the blackout ones in the bedroom, the original ones in the front room. He'd learned from experience that curtains made a place feel more homey, even if the rest of the place was a real dump. It was one of the first things Stella had done when they'd gotten their first place together, a little one bedroom, furnished, a place her fancy-schmancy parents cried over when they saw it. God, they were such first class jerks. No wonder Stella picked the goofy-looking punk kid with glasses over the Ivy League assholes. It was her way of sticking it to her parents when they tried to control any part of her life, something he'd found out early on was nearly impossible with _The Stella_. He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck as he flashed on the number of times they'd fucked after they'd put up those bedroom curtains together. Even now, he couldn't look at lace sheers without grinning and getting a little hard.  
  
Thinking of Stella reminded him of the boxes in the front room, so he figured he'd better get started. He checked out the neatly printed labels and noted that Stella had them all numbered. So, he started with boxes one through three, finding all the winter gear he'd asked for. The coats, boots, heavy sweaters, thermal wear, they were all there. Luckily, since the renovation, they now had plenty of storage. He put those away in the closet and flattened the boxes in a pile by the living room fireplace, figuring they'd be great to start fires come winter.

Boxes four and five had linen, sheets, towels, and blankets. At least they wouldnt have to spend money buying all that shit again. He stored those away and put the towels out in the bathroom. Box six has all his and Ben's casual clothes, stuff he'd left in the bedroom closet and bureau. Box seven had Ben and Ray's uniforms, neatly folded and wrapped in the plastic from the dry cleaners. Banking away the emotions, he hung those up, too. Then he made coffee, biting his lower lip, stalling before he opened the other boxes. Who knew opening a bunch of dumb boxes could carry such an emotional punch, such a wallop from the past?

After a few more moments, he got himself together and started on box eight. Inside were his plastic chili pepper lights, the lights he'd bought one Christmas on a whim when everybody was sold out of the regular ones for the tree. After that, he'd just left them out to remind himself of good times and a little nudge about why he shouldn't wait until the last minute to do stuff. He grinned to himself and then pulled out the rest of the house wares Stella had crammed in, the things like the good pots and pans, kitchen towels, utensils, things that made it easier to cook no matter where a guy hung his Stetson. 

Just for a gag, he hung the lights over the kitchen cabinets, wondering what Ben would think. Just the thought of Ben seeing the lights made him smile. He never said anything outright, but Ray knew that Ben thought the lights were pretty damn tacky. Still, they were his lights and he wanted them. They made the place warmer even when they weren't plugged in and lit up.

Box nine held a real prize, his sound system with his CDs. He pulled it out of all the bubble wrap and set it over on the shelf on the wall that separated the living room and the bedroom. He plugged it in and slipped in his Eric Clapton CD. He hit a few buttons and Clapton starting singing about "Layla". Smiling, his body reacting to the music, Ray danced back over and got out the rest of his music. He stacked the disks next to the stereo along with the few Steve McQueen movies she'd included.  
  
Box ten didn't have a TV or anything like that, just a lot of his old papers, his scrapbooks, and pictures. Memories washed over him as he scanned through the images of him and Stella growing up as he turned the pages. He put those to the side and pulled out the three smaller black boxes at the bottom. He wiped his face, sweat beading his forehead. He opened one, saw the medal, and snapped the lid closed. She'd shipped him his commendations, the ones he'd given to her for safe keeping when he'd taken the Vecchio gig. He'd forgotten about that, how he'd told her to keep them until he asked for them. He guessed she figured moving to Canada with his boyfriend was the same as asking. He put those all away and sat back, listening to Eric play the guitar in the background. 

If he'd had a bottle, he'd have downed a couple of shots. His whole body shook as he thought about those awards, how people had praised him for being such a hotshot cop, a great cop, a guy who saved a kid's life and protected all those other people. How the fuck did he end up killing kids? How'd he fall so far, so fast? He sure as hell had no clue.  
  
Leaning forward, he held his face in his hands and trembled, pushing away the terrible rush of images and sensations of Clooney hurting him, cutting him up, making his life a living hell sometimes. Dief moved in closer, nuzzling against his thigh, whining to get his attention. He petted the head and wiped away his tears. He needed a drink. If not booze, then something. He got up and poured himself some coffee, staring at the last two boxes, wondering what other shit lay in wait to sucker punch him like the commendations had.

He doctored the coffee with extra sugar and then drank it slowly, building up his nerve. After he finished it, he went over and opened up the eleventh box. Inside, he found all his art materials, the paints, pencils, tablets, every picture he'd drawn, which were a lot more than he remembered. On the front of his last tablet was a post-it note from Stella. "These are really good, Ray. Keep at it."  
  
Again, Ray swallowed hard and fought down the boohoos. He opened the last box and took out his photo albums and the packages of developed pictures and undeveloped film. On the top of the last package, the one that held the pictures of the homeless man and the runaway who looked so much like Stella as a young girl, was another note in Stella's handwriting. "This is great work."

Ray stared at the note, and this time he did choke up, big tears streaming down his face. He remembered the arguments, the terrible words thrown between them when he'd talked about quitting the force and being an artist or a photographer, anything but a cop. She'd told him he was a dreamer, that he didn't have what it took, not enough talent, not enough self-confidence to take the criticism. Now all these years later, she admitted she was wrong, something she almost never did. She might as well have flattened him with an upper cut he never saw coming.

Ray put the note down and picked up the photos, scanning through them once again, seeing the terrible images he'd snapped of the drunks, the bag ladies, the young hustlers selling themselves for drugs. He tossed the pictures back into the box and then sat back, his eyes closed, sick to his stomach. He knew all too well that if he went to that same street or pretty much any corner in certain areas of Chicago, the sights would still be there. It might be a different drunk or bag lady, but they'd be there. Girls and boys would still be selling themselves to strangers to get high. Ugliness wormed itself into his head and made it hard to think straight. He might be sitting in a cabin in the Canadian woods far removed from urban squalor, but in his head he was still stuck in a dark alley, still ruled by some dead asshole half the time.

In the background, Eric sang "Cocaine" and Ray heard a car door slam outside. Dief's ears perked up and he woofed out a warning. Ray got up and peeked out the window and then called Dief off. "It's okay. I know the guy."  
  
Then Ray opened the door to trouble.

* * *

"You're an idiot, you know that?"  
  
Peter stopped in his tracks, his eyes all blood-shot, his face worn and whiskery. He looked like he'd gone a round or two and was just getting up from the punch. "Nice to see you, too, Ray."  
  
"Why didn't you tell Renny where you were going? He's worried sick."  
  
Peter waved him off, didn't meet his gaze. "I don't want to talk about Renny, not yet. Can I come in or not?"  
  
"Sure."

As soon as he was inside, Ray got his cell phone and held it out to Peter. "Call him, asshole. Now."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"You do it or I'll do it. He needs to know you're safe."

Reluctantly, Peter reached inside his pocket and pulled out his own phone. "Put yours away. I've got it."  
  
"Then stop stallin' and dial the fucking number."  
  
Peter stepped past Ray, going back outside to make the phone call. Crossing his arms, impatient, Ray tried not to eavesdrop, but years of being a cop made it impossible to shut out the one-sided conversation. "Hey, Renny, I'm here in Yellowknife with Ray. He said you were worried yeah, I know I'm sorry but no, I didn't think about - come on, baby, don't be that way well, fuck it." The phone snapped shut, and Peter kicked at the steps before coming back inside. "He's pissed."  
  
"You blame him? You took off without a word. He thought you were dead in a ditch or something."  
  
"I know. I'm an asshole, so sue me. I just had to get away for a while." Inside, Peter looked around and changed the subject. "Nice place."  
  
"Thanks. You look like shit. You want some coffee?"  
  
"No coffee, not right now." Peter turned and studied Ray for a minute. "I'm not the only one who looks pretty lousy. What about you? How are you holding up?"  
  
"I'm doing okay."  
  
"I went to the hospital first, but they said Fraser was in rehab. So, I asked about you. They said that you were at that house in town, but you weren't there, either. I ended up going over to Mimi's and got directions out here."  
  
"You met Mimi, huh? What'd you think?"  
  
"She's everything you said she was. Great lady. Wanted to feed me and tuck me in, seemed like." Peter moved the shipping boxes out of the way to sit before slumping down on the sofa. "Funny thing, she thought I was your brother or cousin or something."  
  
"Guess we Polacks all look a like."  
  
"Yeah, I guess." Peter leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Look, I don't mean to barge in. I know you're Renny's friend first, so if you don't want me here, I can leave, stay in town, but "  
  
"But what?"  
  
"But I need a place to stay for a few days. I can't face going back to Chicago right now. There's too much shit going on. I needed a break."  
  
Tight muscles across Ray's shoulders relaxed slightly and he sat down on the sofa next to Peter. He moved all the stuff back into the box and then onto the floor. "You can stay here, sure. To be honest I could use the company."  
  
"Yeah, you are pretty much out in the middle of nowhere here."  
  
"Ben likes it."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I like it, too, when Ben's here."  
  
Peter stared at him, his voice low and concerned. "How is he, really?"  
  
Ray hesitated, not quite sure what to say, but the guy was a friend, an asshole, but still a friend who'd been there over the last month. "Scared, afraid he'll never be able to do his job again, afraid of being a cripple."  
  
"Yeah, but he's alive."  
  
"I know and he gets that, but still "  
  
"It's a hard thing being dependent."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They both sat for a while, quiet, not putting words to the fears just inside their heads. Finally, Ray asked, "So, you going to tell me what happened between you and Renny?"  
  
"Not yet. I didn't come here to dump all my shit in your lap. I've got another reason for being here."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"You gave me the Goat and I figured the least I could do is to get you something to pay you back."  
  
"You didn't have to do that. It was a gift."  
  
"I know, but after the split it gave me something to do, a project, you know? I wanted to get you something you could drive up here in winter world. So, I went online and found this guy here in town who had this great truck for sale. I flew in, took possession, and now I'm here to hand it over."  
  
Ray's eyes widened, remembering the Chevy C20 truck Peter had gotten out of. "Are you saying that truck you're driving is "

"Yours."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"I'm not. It's a sweet truck, Ray. It's the least I can trade for the Goat."  
  
Shaking his head, Ray couldn't believe the guy had flown all the way to Canada to give him a truck, a classic at that. "The Goat was yours, no strings."  
  
"I know that, but I wanted to do this." Peter stood up and motioned to the outside. "Come on. Check it out."  
  
They walked out together, Dief right behind them. Peter ran his hand along the customized red body of the 1968 Chevy. "It's all been restored from scratch, frame, body, engine, the whole deal. Check it out."  
  
After he popped the hood, Ray looked down on what looked like a brand new engine. "Wow. Sweet."  
  
"It's a 1996 Camero LT1 engine and transmission with sequential port fuel injection with matching L60E four speed automatic transmission with overdrive. We're talking serious power and pick up. Everything's pristine here, Ray. I checked it all out myself. It's a classic, but it's got everything to make it winter ready, too, including a heated engine block and a bed liner and cover. Plus, it's got disk brakes, duel exhaust with Flowmaster mufflers, 16-inch custom rims, and brand new 255LT/75/R16 tires. I mean, it runs like a fucking wet dream." Peter held out the keys. "Want to start her up and take a test drive?" 

"Hell, yeah."  
  
They got in, Ray behind the wheel, Peter in the passenger's seat. Dief barked in protest as Ray slammed the door shut. "You stay here. I'll be back in a minute."

Ray started it up, backed out, and took off down the highway away from town. It was an open run, and the power of the truck got his heart racing. Peter slapped his shoulder. "See what I'm saying?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it's great."  
  
"So you want it or not?"  
  
"Sure I want it, but it's too much. I need to pay you something."  
  
"Don't insult me, okay? Even Steven. I get the Goat, you get the truck. We're square."  
  
Nodding, more than happy to go along with the trade, Ray rolled the window down. Driving geared him up, shut down his gloomy thinking. He drove for nearly half an hour before Peter finally asked, "So, you think we'll make it to the North Pole sometime tonight or what?"  
  
Ray snorted and glanced sideways at the smirking passenger. "Funny man."  
  
"Well, I just figured since we're headed that way and breaking the speed limit and all."  
  
Driving with one hand, Ray covered his mouth and took a deep breath. He found a spot to turn around and then headed back towards the cabin. "You're right. It drives great. Thanks."  
  
"Hey, it was this or a '97 Jeep I found. I thought you'd like the classic better. Plus, I figured this way you can haul shit, stuff you need for the cabin."  
  
"Good choice. Saves me from having to go looking."  
  
"I wanted a stick shift, but you can't have everything."  
  
"It's fine. I like it."  
  
"Cool. I'm glad."

When they reached the cabin again, Dief sat on the porch, waiting impatiently. They got out and Peter reached into the back of the truck to retrieve his bags and a cooler. After they walked inside, Dief followed, baring his teeth and letting go with a low, throaty growl. Ray stopped, stunned at the reaction. He held up a warning finger to the wolf. "Don't. He's a friend."  
  
Dief, unconvinced, growled again and parked himself beside Ray, keeping his eyes glued to Peter.  
  
Uncomfortable, Peter looked first at Ray and then Diefenbaker. "I don't think he likes me."  
  
"He doesn't know you."  
  
"Still "  
  
"Don't worry about it. Just don't make any sudden moves."  
  
"Jesus."  
  
Ray grinned and rubbed Dief's head playfully. "It's okay. I'm just messing with you. He won't hurt you. Honest."  
  
Meanwhile, Dief kept his guard up and never took his eyes off Peter.

Inside, Peter ignored the wolfie glares and dropped his bags in a corner, putting the cooler on the kitchen table. "You got a refrigerator in this joint?"  
  
Ray smiled and motioned to the little one beside the sink. Stevie Garvey had put it in during the redo, just like a real kitchen, well, if the real kitchen had dwarves. Still, it worked and that was all that mattered. "It's not very big, but big enough for little things we need in summer. In winter, we just stick it outside."  
  
"I'll bet." Peter opened the cooler and took out two six-packs of Molson. He took a beer and then held out another. "You want one?"  
  
"Better not."  
  
"Come on, Ray, don't make me drink alone here. One beer won't hurt. Looks to me like you could use a drink or two."  
  
Ray hesitated, knew he shouldn't, but took the beer anyway. "This mean you're going to tell me how you fucked up a good thing?"  
  
"Sure, blame the whole thing on me. Why the fuck not?" Peter put the rest of the beers in the small refrigerator and then sat down next to Ray on the sofa. Diefenbaker sat near the end with Ray, but didn't lie down, watching Peter like he was on guard duty.

"Why's he keep looking at me like that?"  
  
"Beats me. He usually just curls up and goes to sleep."  
  
"When was the last time you fed him?"  
  
"Just an hour ago. Maybe it's worms or something."

"Worms, huh? Could be. Better get him checked out."  
  
"Yeah, I'll do that." Ray stole a glance at Dief, shaking his head, not really sure what the fuck was going on with his furry friend. Then Ray settled back, took the cap off the beer, and took a long swig. The yeasty flavor slid over his tongue, down his throat, and warmed his belly. It'd been too long since the last beer. He'd missed it. His grateful shudder didn't go unnoticed. 

"Been a while, huh?"  
  
Ray ignored the smirk and asked, "So, you were going to tell me what happened. You fuck up or what?"  
  
"Yeah, it was a fuck up all right, no two ways about it."  
  
"What'd you do?"  
  
Defensive, but not really denying it, Peter asked, "Why do you think it was me?"  
  
"Because Renny loves you and he wouldn't do anything to hurt you."  
  
"I love him, too."  
  
"But not enough."  
  
Peter drank half his beer in one long pull before he whispered, "Look, it's complicated." 

"He says you're drinking too much. That true?"  
  
"One drink is too much for him. After all that shit with his parents, he's got issues about booze. Plus, he's such a prude about some stuff."  
  
Ray snorted and took another drink himself. "Yeah, well, it comes with the uniform."  
  
"Yeah, maybe. Anyway, it's not the booze, not completely." Peter finished off his beer, got up and threw away the bottle. He got another and sat down. As he twisted off the cap, he confessed, "I cheated."  
  
Ray nodded, not surprised, just disappointed. "Anybody I know?"  
  
"No, and nobody I knew, either. It was just a one night stand, a pick up. It didnt mean anything."  
  
"It did to Renny."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I screwed up. I promised I wouldn't do the scene anymore, but "  
  
"But what?"  
  
The other man shrugged. "No excuses."  
  
Ray sighed, took another drink, and asked again. "What were you going to say?"  
  
"Renny's a great guy, a really good person, but sometimes I don't want good. Sometimes I want down and dirty, a little rough even. Renny doesn't get that."  
  
"So you're saying it's just sex in the clubs?"  
  
"Yeah, and Renny, he takes it all personally, like it's all about him."  
  
"When it's really all about you, right?"  
  
Peter stopped and then turned his head to stare at Ray. "No, it's not all about me. I hurt him and I'm really sorry about that. He just doesnt want to listen anymore. He won't even give me another chance. He's so damn stubborn about everything. You'd think I'd shot the fucking Queen or something."  
  
Ray finished off his own beer, his muscles suddenly a lot looser, a lot more relaxed. He got up and fetched himself another drink before he said anything else. "So, was it just the one time?"

Peter didn't answer right away, which was pretty much the response Ray expected. When Peter did speak, his words were strained. "I know it was wrong. I tried to stop."  
  
"How many times?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"It does to Renny."  
  
"Five."  
  
"And every time, you told him you'd stop and you did it again, right?"  
  
"I meant it every time, too."  
  
"I'm sure you did."  
  
"Don't fucking judge me, Ray."  
  
"I'm not, but Renny is. You lied to him. You lied to yourself. He gave you chances and you blew it. What'd you expect? Renny loves you, but enough's enough. You make a commitment, say you're going to stop fucking around, that's what he expects you to do, not go around screwing every Tom, Dick, and Harry in Chicago."

Miserable, his eyes closed, Peter nodded. "I know. I know. I love him, but he won't take me back, not anymore. I've tried everything."  
  
"Except keeping it in your pants."  
  
Peter stood up, angry, his voice harsh. "Fuck you."  
  
Dief stood up lightning quick, growling. Only Ray's hand buried in the fur at his neck kept him from leaping forward. "Whoa, Dief. Calm down." 

Peter went stiff as a board, didn't move a muscle, his face pale. "What the hell?"  
  
"Lose the tone. He thinks you're a threat."  
  
"I thought he was deaf."  
  
"He is, but he reads attitude. He knows when you're angry. Now, just sit down and stop acting like an asshole."  
  
Sitting slowly, Peter sneaked side glances at Dief the whole time. Ray got up and took Dief to the door, putting him outside despite the barks of protest. "I know, I know. Just lay down and be quiet. It's cool."  
  
Ray shut the door and apologized. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's with him tonight. I guess he's antsy because Ben's been away for so long. He's being protective."  
  
"He's dangerous, Ray. You should put him on a chain or something. He could bite somebody, maybe even kill 'em, and you'd be liable."  
  
"Dief's okay. He's just not acting right tonight, that's all. I guess even wolves can get grumpy."  
  
"Thanks for putting him outside. I appreciate it."  
  
Ray ignored the pawing at the door and wondered what the hell was wrong with the wolf. If it kept up, he'd ask Ben tomorrow. Meanwhile, he'd keep him outside until Peter took off. "He just needs to calm down, that's all. Most of the time he's real friendly. Hell, Jeremy kept him for the last month and he's only twelve. So, I don't have a clue what this is all about."  
  
"Maybe it's me. Maybe he's pissed off about me cheating on Renny, too. Who the fuck knows?"  
  
"Could be. He's got a sixth sense for cheaters."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Jesus, Pulaski, I'm just kiddin'."  
  
"Not funny."  
  
"Yeah, well, sorry." Ray drank some more, settled back down, and then asked, "So, what's the plan?"  
  
"Plan?"  
  
"Yeah, plan. You want to win back a Mountie, you've got to have a plan."  
  
All dejected, Peter finished his second beer and got up to get his third. He spoke as he leaned back against the sink. "I've got no plan."  
  
"I figured. You want him back?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"You willing to do whatever it takes?"  
  
"I can try."  
  
"Not good enough."  
  
Peter frowned and came back to sit down. "It's all I've got."  
  
"Then maybe Renny deserves better. Maybe you're not good enough for him."  
  
"You saying you won't help me win him back?"  
  
"I'm saying maybe you're not ready to have him back."  
  
Peter sighed heavily, shook his head, and drank some more. He settled back on the sofa, his voice soft, but tired. "You might be right. I love him, but not enough to give up everything I am to have him."  
  
"What's that mean, everything you are? What the fuck are you? Some freak who has to have it from a lot of guys to feel hot? Some asshole who can't keep a promise? What are you afraid to give up?"  
  
"I don't know. I really don't."  
  
"Then you're pretty much fucked."  
  
"Yeah, seems like."  
  
Neither man spoke for a long time, just finished their beers in silence. By the time they started on the second six pack, Ray decided to change the music. He put on something slow and easy, a little jazzy CD by Dave Sanborn. He loved how the mix of the right music and enough booze always made his troubles less scary. 

Relaxed and obviously not quite sober, Peter bobbed his head to the music. "Nice sound."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
As he sat down, Ray closed his eyes, suddenly sleepy, all the long nights catching up with him. "God, I'm tired."  
  
"Yeah, me, too. Can I crash on the couch? I won't be any trouble."  
  
"Sure. I'll get some sheets and a blanket."

When Ray went to get up, Peter suddenly shoved him back against the cushions and leaned over, planting his mouth over Ray's, his tongue pushing in between his lips, his right hand making a clumsy grope between his legs.  
  
Startled, Ray jerked back and pushed him away with both hands. "Whoa! What the fuck?"

Peter's stared at him, stunned and shaking his head. "I don't know. I just wanted to do that ever since I saw you that first time."  
  
Staring into those glazed eyes, Ray snorted and stood up. "Listen, you're drunk. Don't do that again, okay? You do and I'll sock you so hard you can save the ticket back to Chicago, got it?"  
  
Face flushed with embarrassment, Peter nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm a dumbfuck. What can I say?"  
  
"I think you've said enough for the night. Get your own sheets. They're in the closet. Im going for a walk."  
  
"With a bum leg? Look, you don't have to leave. I won't touch you again if you don't want me to."  
  
Ray couldn't believe what he was hearing. Renny really did deserve better than this scumbag. "Cut the shit or I'll call a cab to take you back to town right now."  
  
Peter leaned forward, face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Ray. I'm just so fucked up right now."  
  
"I can see that. Just get some rest. You're tired and you need to sober up."  
  
"I'm not that drunk."  
  
"You're drunk enough to make a move when you should know better."  
  
"True." Slamming his fist against his forehead a couple of times, Peter cursed. "Fuck. I'm so fucking stupid. I'm sorry."  
  
Heading for the door, Ray shook his head in disgust. "Go to sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."  
  
"It's still light out."  
  
"You get used to it. Now sleep it off. I'll be back after I cool off, but I'm keeping Dief inside from now on."  
  
"You don't need a watch dog. I'll keep my hands to myself."  
  
"And your lips."  
  
"Yeah, those, too."  
  
"Doesn't matter. Dief stays inside."  
  
"Then maybe I should leave."  
  
"Maybe you should, but you're not driving and neither am I. We'll get you a room somewhere in the morning."  
  
"Whatever." Peter fell sideways on the sofa, his eyes closed, his arms crossed around his chest.  
  
Ray took off, walking the path to the lake with Dief by his side. He heard Peter cussing like a sailor from inside. Stupid son of a bitch was more messed up than he was and that was saying a hell of a lot. Poor Renny should cut his losses before it was too late.

* * *

"You're a smart wolf, you know that? You knew Peter was a snake before I did."  
  
Dief didn't answer, just watched smugly as Ray tossed rocks from the riverbank across the still water. The beer buzz fading, Ray found himself wishing for another drink to ease the edginess. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do about Peter? Renny still loved the jerk, that was pretty obvious, but the guy was a major screwup, a first class loser. Still, who was he to judge why somebody as good as Renny loved somebody like that? People might ask Ben the same question, ask why he'd hook up with someone as messed up as Ray. Love made people crazy, made them want what they should know better than to want. Reason didn't take the desire away or make it any easier to live with the regret of what if.

Throwing the last stone in frustration, Ray turned and headed back up the trail, his leg aching. He hadn't walked all the way down to the lake since the shooting a month ago and he could definitely tell the difference. His bad leg complained and bitched every time he had to step over any little rock or log along the way. Served him right for being such a patsy, not seeing what was coming with Peter. Son of a bitch made a move when he wasn't even paying attention. When had he let his guard down, relaxed enough that somebody could catch him off guard like that? Ray was losing his touch as a tough guy. Guess it was a good thing he wasn't a cop anymore. No telling what the fuck could happen.

Reaching the front of the cabin, Ray stopped, surprised to see Chris and Eddie standing on the porch talking. "Hey, guys. What's up?"  
  
Eddie held up a big pot. "We brought you some chili. Thought you might like some company or something."  
  
"Thanks. I "

Chris interrupted, "Why's there a guy passed out on the sofa?"  
  
Ray's back stiffened at the tone, but kept his own voice steady. "He's just a friend from Chicago. It's a long trip."  
  
"Some friend." Chris motioned at the truck. "And what are you doing with Jack Wilson's Chevy?"  
  
"Jack Wilson?"  
  
"Yeah, he restored it himself. He's been working on it for months."  
  
Ray stepped up on the porch, still looking at the truck. "He did a great job."  
  
Chris stared at him, his face tight, his voice tense with accusation. "You smell like booze."  
  
Ray didn't look away, pissed that Chris thought he had a right to say shit about his life. Friend or no friend, the guy stepped over the line sometimes. "So?"  
  
"So nothing."  
  
Eddie put a hand on Chris's arm. "Maybe we should go, man. He's got company."  
  
"Bad company."  
  
"Look, he's a friend of a friend, and he came in from Chicago to give me the truck because I gave him my GTO. He's tired from the flight. We had a few beers. It's nothing."  
  
Chris didn't buy it, but he didn't say anything else to Ray. Instead, he turned to Eddie and snapped, "Let's go." Then he headed back to his own truck, getting in, and slamming the door.  
  
Uneasy, Eddie held out the pot of chili. "Here, man. You might want it later."  
  
Ray took it, his insides shaking, suddenly angry. "Thanks. What the fuck's his problem anyway? Can't I have a fucking beer in my own place?"  
  
"He just worries about you, man, that's all. We both do."  
  
"Well, don't. I'm fine."  
  
The truck's engine revved up and Eddie thumbed in that direction. "Better go, man. Call us if you need anything."  
  
"Yeah, I'll do that."  
  
Ray stood on the porch, watching as his friend climbed into the black truck before they took off, shooting gravel up from under the tires. He took a deep breath before he went inside with Dief. He put the chili pot down on the stove and picked up the lid. It smelled great, but he figured if he ate any, he wouldn't sleep all night because he'd be puking his guts out. Ray's stomach and spicy chili, not a good mix. So, he leaned down, took the beer out of the small refrigerator and put the chili inside instead. Maybe Peter would eat it later. 

Ray took a bottle, uncapping it as he went to stand at the end of the sofa. Peter slept hard, his breaths shallow, his mouth open and his head at an odd angle. The poor guy was going to have one hell of a hangover and a sore neck in the morning.

Ray took a deep swallow of the beer, chugging it before getting a blanket from the closet. It might be August, but it got colder than shit at night. 

Grabbing another beer before he even finished the other one, Ray headed for the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he imagined how soon Ben would be there, how they'd be sleeping together again before he knew it. At least that was what he kept telling himself every time that ounce of panic turned into a ton of bricks in his stomach. He finished off the beer and then stretched out. The mattress bounced as Dief jumped up on the end of the bed. Ben never let Dief sleep with them, but Ben wasn't home and Ray liked having the mutt share the bed. He patted the space beside him. "Come on, big guy."  
  
Settling next to him, Dief snuggled close, but with his head on his paws and his eyes watching the doorway. Ray closed his own eyes, his muscles relaxed, but his head way too busy for sleep. His fingers played with Dief's fur as he pushed away the thoughts, the image of Peter kissing him silly. In his head, he thought about what Ben would say if he told him. It wasn't a pretty picture, a Mountie tearing a guy's head off. 

* * *

Ray woke up slowly, lying on his side, Dief's fur in his face. He rolled onto his back, his head aching and his mouth tasting like he'd eaten a fistful of blubber and lichen. Squeezing his eyes closed, head pounding, he heard Peter moving around in the other room. He smelled coffee, too, the familiar aroma teasing him awake, his stomach doing a little flip-flop and growl combo. He wasn't quite sure whether he really wanted coffee or to throw up first, fifty-fifty odds either way seemed like.

Filling his lungs with air, he got up carefully, moving the wolf's butt out of his face, and then stumbled to the can. Taking a leak in a real bathroom instead of an outhouse should've rocked his world. After all, he'd been bitching and complaining since the first trip back in December, but somehow he couldn't quite muster the enthusiasm for pissing inside, at least not just yet. Maybe when he really woke up and took his first shower, it'd hit home that they were really doing this, this thing, this staying in Canada thing, this honest to god married couple thing.

Ray zipped up and washed his hands, getting a glance at himself in the mirror. Shit, he looked bad, really bad, sort of green and gray at the same time bad. He rubbed a hand over the stubble and figured he should probably lose the whiskers before he went to see Ben. Not that shaving would make him feel any better, but at least he might not scare the nurses at rehab.

Walking out into the main living area, he found Peter sitting at the table drinking coffee. He was going through Ray's pictures, his photographs, the drawings, the paintings. Ray's face heated and he snapped, "What the fuck are you doing?"  
  
"You do these?"  
  
"Yeah. What'd you do, snoop around?"  
  
"The boxes were right there. That's not snooping. Snooping's when I have to work at it, look around in drawers and closets and shit. Don't get your shorts in a twist, Mr. Sensitive." He picked up one of Ray's watercolors. "These are really good. I can't believe you did all these."  
  
Ray crossed his arms, not hearing the compliment, only the disbelief in his ability. It was like being twelve all over again when old Mrs. Polston thought he cheated on a test or something. "And why the fuck not?"  
  
"You're a cop, not an artist, or at least that's what I thought."  
  
Too tired to be pissed for long, Ray shrugged and stepped to the stove. He poured himself some coffee and sugared it, a lot, wishing he had some chocolate or some creamer, anything to cut the bitterness that reminded him of all the rank coffee he'd downed on the job. Just thinking about the force made him depressed all over again. "I'm not a cop anymore. I quit."  
  
"Yeah? Just like that, quit what you've been doing your whole life?"  
  
"Not just like that, no. It wasn't easy, but I had to."  
  
"Had to?"  
  
"I couldn't do it anymore. People were getting killed because of me. It was time to move on, make a change, do something different."  
  
"Moving to Podunk, Canada, with a gorgeous gay Mountie's pretty damn different."  
  
"Oh, yeah."

Peter didn't look in his direction, just kept talking as he scanned through the artwork, all casual and sneaky, like he wasn't really interested. Ray knew the act, had done it himself a few times when threats didn't work and he wanted a cagey suspect to spill his guts. "So, did you quitting have anything to do with you almost getting your head blown off?"  
  
"That's part of it, but not the whole thing. There was other stuff, shit I dont really want to talk about." He leaned back against the counter as he changed the subject. "You know you could do it, too, if you weren't such an asshole."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Quit and move to Canada with Renny."  
  
Peter looked at him like he'd lost what little sense he had. "Yeah, right. Wouldn't work. I get a rash outside the city."  
  
Ray laughed and Peter frowned, not getting the joke. "What?"  
  
"I used to say the same thing when I first met Ben. Look at me now."  
  
Peter turned his attention back to his coffee and the pictures. "Yeah, well, you and I, we're different. I don't do rural, never have."  
  
"Canada's not all rural. There's Toronto, Ottawa, a lot of big cities."  
  
"All with gay clubs and temptation. I figure I'll do Renny and me both a big favor and cut our losses. He can live his life and I'll live mine."  
  
"Both lonely, too."  
  
Suddenly angry, Peter snapped, "What's it to you anyway? Renny's better off."  
  
"Maybe, maybe not, but he loves you. It hurts when you love somebody and they don't love you back."  
  
Peter protested, "I didn't say I didn't love the big lug."  
  
"Then why don't you act like it?"  
  
"Couldnt tell ya. I've never been able to stay in a relationship for long. I always chicken out and do something stupid."  
  
"How come?"  
  
Peter snorted in frustration, his voice tight. "Who the fuck are you, my therapist?"  
  
Considering all the shrink talk Ray had heard over the last year, he could probably pass for one, but he ignored the jab. "I just think you're selling yourself and Renny short, that's all. But you're right, it's none of my business. You want to fuck your way through Chicago or any place else, no skin off my nose."  
  
"What would you know about it? Hell, you've probably only fucked a couple of people in your whole life anyway. You've got no idea about why I do what I do."  
  
Ray surprised himself. He wasn't even mad, not even a little bit, just sad that Peter thought so little of himself, that he was more fucked up than Ray was. "I never thought I'd say this, but "  
  
"But what?"  
  
"You should see somebody."  
  
"See somebody? You mean a shrink?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, if you love Renny like you say you do, there must be some reason why you fuck it up when it gets good." Ray paused before he asked, "It was good, right?"  
  
Peter sat back, taking several deep breaths, his face flushed. It took a few extra moments before he spoke. "Yeah, it was good, the best ever."  
  
"So why "  
  
"Just shut up, okay? I dont want to talk about this anymore."  
  
Reluctantly, Ray nodded. "Sure, okay. Sorry."  
  
Peter waved him off, shaking his head, his face drawn and haggard. "Don't be sorry. You're not asking me anything I haven't already thought about. I just don't have the energy to think about it anymore, that's all, not right now. I'm an idiot. I know that. Last night proves that."  
  
Ray sat down at the table, shoving some of his work out of the way to make room for his coffee mug. "About last night "  
  
Peter interrupted, "I know, I know, it was beyond stupid."  
  
"Yeah, it was, but it's okay. Just don't do it again."  
  
"I won't." Hesitating, studying Ray, Peter asked, "Does this mean I can stay?"  
  
"For now, but you do it again and you're moving into town. There's a couple of good hotels or a bed and breakfast where you can stay."  
  
Peter sat straighter, obviously relieved. "It won't happen again, I promise. I was drunk and "  
  
"You werent **that** drunk."

"Well, whatever I was, I'm sorry."  
  
"Forget about it and don't mention it again, okay?"  
  
"Fine with me." Peter bit his lower lip before he asked, "So, you going to tell Fraser?"  
  
"Probably."  
  
"Why? He hates me enough as it is. Why make it worse?"  
  
Startled at the claim, Ray sat back in surprise. "He doesn't hate you."  
  
"Sure he does. He has from the start."  
  
"I don't get that. Why would you think "  
  
"Listen, I saw how he was at my place. He was jealous as hell about our connection over the cars. After that, it was just subtle stuff, the way he looked at me sometimes, like I wasn't good enough for Renny, which is true, but he didn't have to be so fucking self-righteous about it."  
  
"You really are a head case, Pulaski. Ben doesn't hate you. He's grateful you saved my eye, grateful you were making Renny so happy. All that other shit, that's just in your head."  
  
"You're going to sit there and tell me he doesn't hate me?"  
  
"That's what I'm saying, yeah. I'll admit he was a little jealous that night of the barbeque, but he got over it."  
  
"Well, I fucked that up, too, then, because he's going to fucking hate me now."  
  
"He'll be pissed, but he doesn't hate you. Hell, he doesn't even hate the guy who almost got him killed. Forgave the son of a bitch, felt sorry for him."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"No, so I don't figure a little kiss is going to put him over the edge."  
  
"I hope not. Look, I know you guys are only my friends because of Renny, but I don't want to lose you both because I blew it with him. I mean, it's not like I've got a whole lot of friends to lose, you know?"  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"I've been kind of an asshole lately."  
  
"Whoa, sit down, I'm shocked."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"Not going to happen. Nice try though."  
  
Peter sobered, all kidding aside. "Maybe it would be better if I stayed in town."  
  
"Maybe, but it's my call, so you're staying."  
  
"Thanks." Peter motioned toward Dief who was lying on the rug by the sofa, keeping an eye on both men. "At least White Fang there isn't trying to eat me alive this morning."  
  
Dief's head lifted and did a little yip, yip, growl thing. Ray laughed. "I know, buddy, sorry. He didn't mean anything."  
  
"Didn't mean what?"  
  
"His name's Diefenbaker or Dief, not White Fang, and he still doesn't like you. So, if I were a clever EMT from Chicago like yourself, I think I'd watch my mouth and make nice with the wolf dog if I didn't want to end up on the menu."  
  
"Make nice how?"  
  
"Well, he's partial to doughnuts and pizza, but he's a hog. He'll eat pretty much anything. Don't give him chocolate, though, even if he begs."

"Why not?"  
  
"Makes him sick, I mean puke all over the place sick."

"Ew. I'll remember that."  
  
"Good." Ray finished his coffee and got up to refill his cup. Then he warmed up Peter's drink before he sat back down. "You know, you could've used the new electric burner for the coffee instead of heating up the whole stove."

Obviously grateful for the change in subject, Peter stopped keeping an eye out for the wolf. "I know, but I liked using a woodstove. Nana used to have one. It was kind of like old times."  
  
"Nana?"  
  
"Yeah, my grandmother on my dad's side. I called her Nana."  
  
"Yeah? Me, too. Must be a Polish thing." Ray smiled and shook his head, wondering about how he and Peter had so much in common sometimes, the cars, falling for a Mountie, and now the whole Nana thing. Go figure. "Funny what you remember sometimes, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, it is. Anyway, I got the stove started and fixed the coffee." Peter picked up one of Ray's pictures, one of the watercolors of the view from the back of the cabin. "That's when I found these. They're really good, Ray. I'm impressed. I'm not just saying that to kiss ass, either."  
  
Shaking his head, not used to compliments except from Ben, Ray shrugged it off. "Don't be. They're just brushstrokes. No big deal."

"You serious? These are good, very good. I mean, I'm no expert, but I know what I like, and I like these." Peter put the painting down and picked up one of the packet of photos from Chicago, taking them out and fanning them out on the table. "But these pictures, these take my breath away, man. You've captured the heart of darkness in the city, what we see all the time, what we look away from. I mean, I make runs and see this shit every day and night, the bums and the bag ladies dying from exposure, the street kids selling their asses for the next high, the next overdose. I see it so much, I'm almost numb to it, so numb I don't even see it anymore. But this, I have to see it, because it's right there, no looking away. I mean, this is some powerful shit you've got here."  
  
"But that's not art. That's just seeing what's there."  
  
"But that's what art is sometimes, being brave enough to not just see it, but take a picture, make it real for other people to see, too, to be touched by it, to be moved. That's the whole fucking point, Ray, to capture a moment. Don't you get that? You've got this talent, this real ability to tell a story with your camera and with your paintings. Like I said, I'm impressed. I had no clue."

Ray didn't speak, couldn't find his voice, his face heated. He didn't know if he was proud or embarrassed. Praise always made him feel like some kind of con job, the bank robbery thing all over again. He swallowed hard, picking up the picture of the young blonde. "She's probably dead now. If she's not dead, she's probably dying of AIDS or TB, or beat up by her pimp, or who the fuck knows? That's not art. That's just a fucking sin."  
  
"Yeah, it's a sin all right, but it's still art. Art makes you think, makes you feel, makes you want to do something, at least that's what it is to me." 

Ray turned the picture of the girl face down on the table and sat back. "Yeah, maybe."  
  
"So what are you going to do?"  
  
"I thought we'd go into town, get some breakfast, buy some groceries. I haven't had time to restock."  
  
"Not what are you going to do today, lamebrain. What are you going to do about your pictures? You going to publish them or what?"  
  
"I've got a picture going on the cover _Outdoor Photography_ , which is pretty cool. Local guy named Cal Tyler's teaching me the photography ins and outs, gave me a job, and hooked me up with an agent."  
  
"Yeah? That's cool. So this agent, is he or she going to arrange shows or what?"  
  
"Shows?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, like in a gallery or something."  
  
Ray thumbed his lower lip and shook his head. "I'm not ready for anything like that. I'm selling pictures to help with the bills, but the art, well, that's private for now."  
  
Peter looked at the watercolor and then at Ray. "Look, you ever change your mind, let me know. I've got this friend in Chicago, Carol, she does that kind of thing, arranges for showings, has her own gallery. We're talking a high-end place, too, not some dump, very ritzy. Renny and I, we used to go sometimes." Peter's voice choked up, his eyes suddenly more bloodshot. "Anyway, I'd love to show her your stuff. You ever get a portfolio together, let me know and I'll hook you up."  
  
Ray shook his head, unsure whether to take the guy seriously or not, so he made the next best move, stall. "Look, thanks, but not right now, not with all this other shit going on."  
  
"I understand that, but you won't know until you try."  
  
"I could say the same thing about a lot of things."

Peter got the jab. "Don't start in about Renny again. It's over and done with, out of my life."  
  
"Yeah, okay, whatever."  
  
They both finished their coffee, Ray's pounding headache not quite as bad as before. He noticed Peter rubbing the back of his neck. "So, you sleep okay last night?"  
  
"My back hurts and I've got a stiff neck, but I'll live. Thanks for the blanket, by the way. I didn't think it got cold here in the summer, but, fuck me, the temps did a real nosedive around three this morning."  
  
"You get used to it."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Bored with talking about the crazyass weather, Ray switched to the topic bugging him the most since the run in Chris the night before. "Yeah, so, Peter, how'd you find the truck again?"  
  
"Found it on the internet. Some guy "  
  
"Jack Wilson?"  
  
Peter stopped and stared in surprise. "Yeah, how'd you'd know that?"  
  
"A friend of mine came by last night, asked me where I got it."  
  
"Yeah? I didn't see anybody?"  
  
"It was after you dozed off."  
  
Peter ran a hand through his blond hair and got up. He poured some more coffee, drinking it black. "Actually, I thought I heard voices, people arguing, but I wasn't sure. I guess I was kind of out of it." He held up a stalling finger before Ray broke in. "But I wasn't passed out. I was just tired. It's a long trip from Chicago to here. Plus, I hadn't slept for two days, so fucking sue me if I sleep deep."  
  
Ray sat back in his chair, stretching his long legs, wondering why Peter was so defensive. "I didn't say anything."  
  
"Yeah, but you were going to."  
  
"You don't know what the fuck I was going to say, Pulaski. Besides, he doesn't live here. I do. If I've got somebody sleeping on the couch, drunk or not, it's none of his business."  
  
"Yeah, well, I wasn't in the bag, so he can blow it out his ass if he says anything."  
  
"Give it a rest. It's no big deal. I just meant he recognized the truck. He knows this Wilson guy. Said he rebuilt it himself."  
  
"Yeah, he did." Peter sat back down, holding the cup in both hands. "He gave me all the specs and we made a deal over the phone. I flew in and he signed it over. Now, I'll sign it over to you. We can do all the paperwork sometime before I leave."  
  
"Today's Sunday, so I guess we can do all the paperwork tomorrow."  
  
"Sounds good." Peter's right hand shook as he drank. He put the cup down and closed his eyes. "God, I don't know how I can be so tired. I mean, I slept a hell of a lot better than you did."

Ray frowned. "What's that mean, better than me? How do you know how the fuck I slept?"  
  
"You talk in your sleep, buddy. Plus, you were up walking around half the night."  
  
"Walking around?" Ray leaned forward, wondering what Peter meant, afraid of what he might hear. "Doing what?"  
  
It was Peter's turn to stare. "You don't remember?"  
  
"If I remembered, would I be asking? What the fuck was I doing?"

"Well, hell, no wonder you didn't answer. I thought you were still mad, but you must've been sleepwalking."  
  
"I don't sleepwalk."  
  
"Maybe not, but you were pacing half the night, inside, then out on the porch, then back in. Then you'd sit at the table, mumble, move your hands around some, then get up and go back to bed. The wolf was by your side the whole time."  
  
Goosebumps prickled Ray's skin as he tried to remember something he couldn't remember. "Shit. I did all that?"  
  
"Yeah, you talked, too, but I couldn't figure out what you were saying half the time. To tell the truth it was a little spooky, but I never even thought about the sleepwalking thing. Weird."  
  
Ray bit and worried his lower lip. He hadn't sleepwalked since he was a kid, not since right after the bank robbery. He sure as hell didn't need that shit now. It was bad enough he talked and cried in his sleep like he was a big crybaby or something. It wasn't fair that he had so little control when he was awake and now he was being hijacked in his sleep by his own fucking head. He wondered if he'd done it before with Ben and Ben just hadn't said anything. Peter's hand on his shoulder got his attention. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah, fine, I just don't know what to say."  
  
"What's to say other than sleepwalking sucks."  
  
"Hell, yeah."  
  
Peter pulled his hand away and sighed. "Well, that's kind of freaky, but it's not a big deal. I mean, you've been through a lot in the last couple of months. They say stress can cause that kind of shit. I mean, I'm no shrink or anything, but that's what I heard."  
  
"Stress, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, so you've got reason."  
  
Ray snorted, "That's a fact." Ray sat up straighter, pushing the idea of him wandering around all zombified out of his head. "Let's forget about this shit for a while. We need breakfast before you see the sights of Yellowknife."  
  
"Sounds good." Peter hesitated and then asked, "So, like what's to see around here, beaver and caribou or what?"  
  
Ray smiled and shook his head, wondering what Mimi would have to say to such a dumb question.

* * *

The trip to town lasted pretty much the whole day. They came back to the cabin around six, both men walking in with a bag of groceries each. Peter put his down first. "Well, that was fun."

Ray placed his bag on the counter, taking out the dog food and filling Dief's bowl as he talked. "It's not Chicago, but it's okay."  
  
"I wasn't being sarcastic, Ray. I liked it. I mean, you've got a lot of friends here."  
  
While Dief chowed down, Ray put the dog food bag away under the sink. "Yeah, well, it helps when you're hooked up with Ben. Everybody likes Fraser."  
  
"Yeah, I kind of got that, but its not all about Fraser. They like you, too. I mean, they acted like you'd lived here a hundred years or something." Peter hesitated before he added, "And they're right, you do look tired."  
  
Ignoring the comment about being tired, Ray emptied his grocery bag and then started emptying Peter's, storing the food away in the cabinets. "Look, I have to take off again in a few minutes. Visiting hours are only from 7 to 9."  
  
"Not a problem. I'll find something to do while you're gone."

Reluctantly, Ray said, "You can go if you want."  
  
"No, that's okay. I know you want to see him alone, and, besides, I don't want to be there when you drop the bomb about what an ass I am."  
  
"Probably a good idea." Ray finished the last bag, folded it, and put it away for later. Recycle, reuse, don't waste a thing, something he'd learned from Ben. "Look, you want coffee? I can make some before I leave." 

"No, that's okay. I've got a couple of beers left. Plus, if you dont mind, I might sample some of that chili in the midget fridge."  
  
Ray grinned at the term midget fridge, thinking how he'd thought about calling it that himself, but knowing Ben wouldn't approve. He heard Ben's voice in his head, _"Midget is a derogatory term, Ray. They prefer little people."_

"What's so funny?"  
  
"Nothing. Go ahead, eat the chili. Eddie's a great cook, but it's too spicy for me."  
  
"Yeah, I noticed you only ate the bland stuff at Mimi's."  
  
Ray cocked his head, pursing his lips, taking the tease better than he might have back in Chicago. "Not all of us have iron bellies, Pulaski."  
  
Peter laughed and patted his stomach a couple of times. "Yeah, I can eat just about anything, the hotter the better. I like new things. That caribou steak at Mimi's was really good." Then his face sobered and shrugged. "Renny would've liked it."  
  
"You should call him."  
  
"Don't start."  
  
"I'm not starting."  
  
"You are, you're starting. You're worse than some little old lady trying to play matchmaker."  
  
"Hey, I was just making a suggestion. You want to sit here and be morass, that's up to you."  
  
Peter's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Morass? You mean morose?"

"Morass, morose, they both fit your sorry ass. I'm just saying it's stupid to sit around and mope and not do anything about it."  
  
Snapping back, Peter took a shot. "So, how long did you mope around when your ex dumped you?"  
  
The low blow didn't hurt as much as it might have a year ago. Ray surprised himself by not getting ticked off and kicking the guy in the head. "Too long, and it sucked big time."  
  
"So you know what it's like."  
  
"Yeah, I do, which is why I'm telling you that if you think there's the slightest chance of fixing this thing with you and Renny, you should go for it. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't."  
  
"Did you do that with your ex-wife?"  
  
"Yeah, I did. I drew the line at stalking, but it was close. Didn't change anything for her, but deep down, I know I did everything I could. Somehow that made it a little easier to let go."  
  
"But you still didn't have her."  
  
"No, but by that time, I was ready to move on. Ben helped pick up the pieces."  
  
"Lucky you."

Ray nodded in agreement. "Yeah. So, do what you want. I've got to get changed and shave."  
  
As Ray moved towards the bathroom, Peter asked, "Would you do it again, all that stuff to get your ex back if you knew it wouldn't make a difference?"  
  
"Yeah, I would."  
  
"Why? I mean, if you knew it wouldnt help, why put yourself through all that heartache?"  
  
"Because I loved her, still do. It's not the same, but I still have feelings for her."  
  
"Fraser know that?"  
  
"Yeah, he does. He's cool about it."  
  
"He's a good guy, Fraser. There aren't many like him around."  
  
"No, but you came close. Renny's a good guy, too."  
  
Sighing heavily, Peter nodded sadly. "Yeah, he is."

* * *

"He kissed you?"

"Yeah, sort of."  
  
Ben shifted in the bed, his face tight and serious. "He either did or he didn't, Ray. There's no **sort of** about osculation." 

"Oscuwhatsis?"  
  
"Kissing, Ray. Did he kiss you or not?"  
  
Ray leaned back against the windowsill, his arms crossed. He'd hated this whole thing, dealing with a fucked up Peter and now Ben being all upset about a stupid kiss that didn't mean shit. "Look, it was just a little kiss. Nothing happened, nada, zilch, zero connection. He was drunk and made a pass. I put the brakes on, end of story."  
  
Ray watched as the muscles in Ben's jaw twitched several times, his blue eyes flashing and narrowed. "I want him out of the cabin, Ray. He's a scoundrel and a blatant opportunist."  
  
Scratching his head, Ray sighed and then moved to sit on the edge of Ben's bed. "Nothing happened, Ben. I promise." He took his partner's good hand in his and squeezed it. "He's a mess. I can't just toss him out on his ass, not when he's hurting this much. Besides, he's still in love with Renny. If he can get his shit together, maybe he and Renny can patch things up. Then they'll both be happy."  
  
"And he won't be chasing after you then, is that it?"  
  
"He's not chasing after me now, Ben. He's just lonely and confused. It's like when a guy gets a divorce or something. He's on the make, just wants a warm body."  
  
"Well, he's not having yours."  
  
"No, he's not."

"I don't trust him."  
  
"But you trust me, right?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Then trust me now when I say nothing's going to happen."  
  
"I don't like it. I don't like him." A tongue slipped across Ben's lower lip as his hand settled on Ray's thigh possessively. "Frankly, I never did trust him. He's had designs on your person since that first night he met you. I knew it then, but convinced myself otherwise, hoping I was wrong. Now, his actions have simply confirmed my earlier suspicions."  
  
Ray leaned in and kissed Ben's forehead and took his face in both hands. He captured Ben's pouty mouth and for the first time in ages, he really took care of business, kissing Ben thoroughly and completely. When Ray pulled back, he grinned at the dopey, completely dazed expression. He loved kissing the stuffing out of the Mountie, wanted to do it as often as he could. "I want you out of here, Ben. How much longer are they going to keep you?"  
  
"You're changing the subject."  
  
"I miss you."  
  
Ben took a deep breath, his voice softer. "I miss you, too, Ray, more than you could possibly know."  
  
"Oh, I know all right. It's like part of me's missing when I'm not with you."  
  
Pulling back, Ben stared for an extra long second. "That's exactly it, like some part of me is missing. I feel a longing like no other I've ever felt."  
  
"Ditto." Ray teased a finger along Ben's lower lip and then caressed his cheek before kissing him again, slower than the first time, but just as deeply. This time when he checked out Ben's expression, he got a whole different result, a very turned on Mountie, eyes dark and face all flushed. "God, I wish we could do it right here."  
  
"I know, Ray, but we can't. There's no privacy."  
  
"Can't you get some kind of overnight pass or something, or maybe just lock the door for a little bit?"  
  
"Im afraid not."  
  
Frustrated, his own dick complaining, Ray stood up and paced the room. "This sucks."  
  
"I wish."  
  
Ray stopped, stunned. "You made a joke."  
  
"I'm not laughing, Ray. I wish, as you do, we could once again share a moment of intimacy." A hand slipped under the covers and Ray didn't have to use a lot of imagination to get the picture. He saw Ben stroke himself, the blanket tented and moving.  
  
Ray's dick throbbed in sympathy. He groaned and settled into the chair by the bed, wondering if he could come just by watching Ben play with himself. "You keep that up and I'm liable to come in my pants."  
  
Ben's eyes closed, his head thrown back against the pillow. He groaned deep in his throat. "Ray, oh, god, it's been so long."  
  
Ray leaned in closer, his hand slipping under the cover, too. It wouldn't take much, just a touch, a whisper. He knew Ben better than himself, knew that look. His hand slipped past the elastic band of the pajama bottom, closing over Ben's fist. With just a couple of buddy strokes, Ben shuddered and grunted, his knees pulling up. "Dear lord, Ray"

"Im right here." Ray stood up, kissing Ben again, his mouth eager, his hand still over Ben's. Pulling back, Ray saw the sweat covering his lover's skin, saw the muscles slowly relax in his face. 

Blue eyes opened, Ben's voice came out all husky and rough. "I love you so much, Ray."  
  
"Same here." Ray squeezed Ben's hand and then slipped his own back out from under the blanket. He got a good whiff of come and smiled. "You needed that."  
  
"God, yes. Thank you."  
  
Ray held up his hand and sniffed before he licked the stuff off his hand. Who knew he'd be a big come freak, loving both the smell and the flavor, all tangy and sharp, mixed with a muskiness totally different from his own spunk? So maybe it wasn't just any come, but Ben's come. Ben's eyes widened as he watched Ray lick his own hand, the arousal still strong. "You do that to tease me."  
  
"Could be. Or maybe I'm just remembering how good you taste."  
  
Ben shook his head, suddenly flushed with guilt. "We shouldn't have done that. It was inappropriate in this setting. Anyone could've walked in."  
  
Ray flashed a toothy grin. "Still could. I'd better wash up." He leaned in for another quick kiss and then walked into the bathroom. His erection half gone, he thought about jerking off real fast, but instead simply cleaned up. He let the water run cold after he'd washed his hand and then splashed his face a few times, letting his dick get the message that there wouldn't be any fun time, at least right then. Maybe later when he was alone, thinking of Ben jerking off and saying his name. His dick twitched again and Ray cursed under his breath. "Calm the fuck down already, jeez." 

Ray stood up, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. He didn't want to see how rough he looked, how his eyes had sunk in, looking all bruised and needy. He rinsed and warmed up a cloth before taking it into Ben. "Here."  
  
Ben cleaned himself up under the covers before handing it back. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
"Im sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For that terrible lapse of self-control. It was unfair to do such a thing when reciprocal action likely wouldn't occur."  
  
Ray snorted and pursed his lips, stepping closer to the bed. He snapped and cracked his neck sideways to release the tension before sitting on the edge of the bed again. "You can reciprocate like crazy when you get out, okay? Don't worry about it."  
  
"Still "  
  
"Seriously, Ben, shut up about it. Just because you're laid up doesn't mean you don't have needs. You're human, at least that's the rumor these days."  
  
"I've always been human, Ray."  
  
"I know. It was just so hard to tell when you wore the Mountie suit all the time."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Definitely human."  
  
Ben shifted his head on the pillow, obviously more relaxed, the color back in his cheeks from getting off. "Human enough to be jealous, too."  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
"I really don't like the idea of Peter being alone with you."  
  
"I know that, but it's cool, Ben. I'll take care of it. He knows I'm taken. It's really not a big deal."  
  
Holding hands, they sat there for a few moments before Ben spoke quietly. "It is a big deal, Ray. I worry. I don't like you drinking, especially with Peter."  
  
"I know." Ray wouldn't meet Ben's gaze, so he stood up and walked to the window. "Listen, I wanted a few drinks with a friend. We talked about cars, about Renny, about you. It felt good to do that, you know?"  
  
"I understand that, but "  
  
"But nothing. I wasn't drunk and I took a break from thinking too hard. What's wrong with that?"  
  
"He kissed you, Ray. Would that have even happened if you'd both been sober?"  
  
"I don't know, maybe. It happened real quick, kind of like an ambush." Ray ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. "You're blowing this all out of proportion. It was just a quick hit and run, you know?"  
  
"It shouldn't have happened at all."  
  
Frustrated, Ray crossed his arms around his chest, his body all shaky. "Look, I thought about not even telling you."  
  
"I'm glad you told me. I don't like secrets between us."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Now, can we just drop it? It won't happen again."  
  
"If it does, you have my permission to thoroughly trounce him."

Ray shook his head a couple of times, grinning. Ben could be such a hoot sometimes. "Trounce? What kind of word is that? Sounds like something out of one of Frannie's romance books."  
  
"It means to thrash or to beat thoroughly."  
  
"I know what it means, but it's stupid. I'm not going to trounce anybody, at least not for one lousy kiss. Besides, whatever happened to the nonviolence thing and controlling your temper you're always preaching about?"  
  
Ben tugged at his ear and gave a weak grin. "I suppose jealousy trumped reason."  
  
"You've got no reason to be jealous, Ben. I've told you that before."  
  
Staring at Ray for an extra beat, Ben nodded and reached out his hand. "I know. I'm sorry."  
  
Taking the invitation, Ray sat down on the edge of the bed, Ben's hand in his. "Look, you think they'll let you take a walk around the building soon, maybe give you a change of scenery? It's not good being cooped up here all the time. Makes you act even crazier than usual."  
  
"Actually, I did discuss that with my physical therapist. He said that perhaps I might be able to do that after the next day or two as long as I have a companion."  
  
"Cool. I'll bring Dief. He's misses you, too."

Ben's smile got even bigger. "I look forward to it."  
  
"It's a date. Now all you have to do is work like a son of a bitch and make it happen."  
  
"I can do that."  
  
"I know you can."  
  
Just as Ben leaned in for a kiss, a knock came at the door. The nurse stepped inside. "I'm sorry. I need to take vitals."  
  
Ray stood up. "It's okay. Time's up in a minute anyway. Guess I should go."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow then?"  
  
"You better believe it." He leaned over, kissing Ben gently on the lips, pulling back, then kissing him again quickly before walking to the door.

"Good night, Ray."  
  
"Night."  
  
As he walked out, Ray glanced over his shoulder, wishing like hell that Ben would be home soon before he did something totally stupid.

* * *

Dief jumped up and covered his face with slobber as soon as Ray parked and got out the truck. "Hey, furface, knock it off." Ray smiled as he said it and ruffled the thick fur with affection. It was what Ben called a mixed message, which is why Dief didn't obey right away, but gave a couple of extra long sloppy licks before he finally stopped. Tongue hanging out, Dief followed beside Ray up the steps. Ray was glad Stevie Garvey saw fit to make the handrail extra sturdy when they remodeled. The light rain and cooler air made the wooden steps a little slippery. His right leg hurt bad enough without adding a couple of bruises from falling on his ass.

Inside, he saw Peter lounging on the sofa in front of a fire, drinking whiskey, happy as a clam and making himself at home. His visitor lifted a glass in welcome. "Hey, where you been? It's after midnight."

Ray stepped to the fireplace and rubbed his hands in front of the blaze, working off the chill, and fighting the urge to drink. Beer was one thing, whiskey another. He'd never had much luck controlling the hard stuff. "I thought you'd be asleep." 

"Working on it. Probably will be in a little bit. You didn't answer the question. I was getting worried."  
  
"What are you, my mum? I haven't had a curfew since I was a teenager."  
  
"I just thought that you'd come home after the visiting hours were over, that's all."  
  
The dampness of his clothes gave Ray a little shiver despite the fire. He hugged himself and fought off the chill. "I drove around some. Lost track of time."  
  
"So you like the truck, huh?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." Ray sat on the opposite end of the sofa, his body edgy and tired at the same time. He would've like nothing better than to fall fast asleep, but he couldn't settle down, couldn't get his head to stop yakking. He'd been running on fumes for a month now and it was finally hitting home that Ben was really going to be okay, going to be fine just as soon as he built up his strength and got his hand working again. Hell, if Ben took the risk to jerk off in the hospital with the door unlocked, he had to be on the road to recovery, right? 

So, why the fuck did Ray want to risk all that by getting drunk off his ass? Ben would have a real hissy fit and get all pissy if he found out Ray had more than a few beers. What Ray didn't know, couldn't figure out was why it was such a big deal anyway. It wasn't like he was a real drunk, not like Chris who apparently needed AA as much as he needed Eddie. Ray could stop whenever he wanted. He'd proven that over and over.

"You okay?"  
  
Ray turned his head, his eyes meeting Peter's. "What?" 

"I said, are you okay? You seem a little out of it. Did something happen at the hospital? Is Fraser okay?"  
  
"Fraser's good, real good, getting better all the time. They might let him go walking outside in a few days. He hates being all cooped up."  
  
"I'll bet."  
  
Ray used both hands to scrub his face. "I'm just tired, but I'm too wound up to sleep."  
  
"I can fix that." Peter got up, fetched a glass, and poured the whiskey. He held it out to Ray. "Here, have one. I hate drinking alone. One drink won't kill you. Might even make you sleep better. Go on, take it."  
  
Ray hesitated, all his worries and doubts flashing in a matter of seconds, Ben's voice whispering disapproval, his face all sad and worried. Thing was, Ben wasn't there, hadn't been for a long time and Ray was just too damn tired to fight about it even in his own head. Ray took the glass and sniffed the liquor, remembered so many times when he'd drunk whiskey before, how many times it'd been there for him when nobody else was, how it made him feel so much better, well, if he didn't count the next morning. "Johnny Walker, huh?"  
  
"Yeah." Peter lifted his glass. "Here's to Fraser and his recovery. Let it be both fast and complete, the sooner the better, right?"  
  
Ray returned the toast, bringing the glass to his lips, sipping the heat, then downing it. The fire hit his belly like an explosion, a blast and flame that made him even more thirsty. He held the glass out again. "Another."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Peter poured a few more ounces into Ray's glass and then added some to his own. He put the bottle on the coffee table and sat back down. "Whiskey and a fire on a cold, rainy night, hell, if we had a bear-skinned rug, it might even be romantic."  
  
Ray snorted and took another drink before he complained, "Don't start."  
  
"Just saying." Before Ray had a chance to say anything else, Peter asked, "So, how is he really? In a hurry to get out?"  
  
"Yeah. He had a tough day. They put him through the wringer looked like, not that he griped or anything. He wouldn't." Ray punctuated his story by finishing his drink and pouring another.

"You might want to slow down a little bit, Ray. The bottle's not going anywhere."  
  
"I'm just catching up, that's all."  
  
Peter didn't reply, just sat back and sipped his own drink. After a few moments of nothing but listening to crackling wood in the fire, Ray asked, "So, how long you planning on sticking around?"  
  
"You in a hurry for me to leave?"  
  
"I didn't say that. I mean, you're welcome to stay here until Ben gets home. After that, well, you might want to make different arrangements."  
  
Peter gave a short laugh in understanding. "You told him about the kiss, huh?"  
  
"Had to."  
  
"Was he upset?"  
  
Ray stared at the guy like he was simpleton or something. "I don't think he got that mad even when he found out his ex-boyfriend tried to have him killed. So, yeah, he was upset."  
  
"Damn. That's pretty pissed."  
  
"Don't worry about it. He trusts me."  
  
"But not me."  
  
"No, not you. So, I'm just saying, if you stay more than a couple of weeks, you might want to make reservations in town, that's all."  
  
Suddenly solemn, Peter sat forward, his glass in both hands. "Doesnt matter. I'm not staying that long. I figure I'll head home in a few days. I just wanted to deliver the truck, visit you and Fraser, then head home."

"You got much leave?"  
  
"More than I need. I'm kind of a workaholic. This is the first personal leave I've taken since I started, well, if you don't count funerals."  
  
"That sucks."  
  
"Not really. I like working. Keeps me busy. Gives me a lot less time to think too much. Thinking too much, that'll get a guy's ass in trouble."  
  
"I hear that." Ray nodded in agreement and had another drink. He let the whiskey buzz settle in, his body all cozy for change, the nervous edges just a bit softer. He rubbed the scar across his neck, the smooth, raised area dull against his fingers.

"Don't do that."  
  
Ray glanced over, his hand still teasing his throat. "What?"  
  
"Playing with your scar. You do it all the time."

Ray opened his eyes wider, surprised at the comment. He hadn't even thought about it, but he did rub that scar a lot, especially when he was tired or nervous. Ben never said anything, never complained, but then he wouldn't. He had his own little quirks, the ear tug, the eye brow smoothing, a finger loosening his collar. Even so, Ray didnt like to think about why he did it, why touching the scar somehow helped calm him down sometimes.

Chilled, he dropped his right hand down, and then lifted his left to finish the drink. He didn't speak, didn't want to say anything out loud. 

Peter's voice softened as he kept pushing. "Ray, what happened to you, really? I mean, I know you were cut up pretty bad at some point, but who did it? Was it a case?" 

Ray choked up and put down his empty glass. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I'll get you some blankets."  
  
As he rose, Peter grabbed his arm and urged him to stay. "Look, don't go yet. We don't have to talk about it. I just wondered, thats all."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Then don't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."  
  
Ray slumped back down, suddenly woozy, his tongue having a hard time making words even for the abbreviated version. "It started when I was undercover. My partner was killed and I got hurt, really hurt, you know, like the deep down kind of hurt that sticks around. I'm not just talking about the pain of broken arms and legs, but way down where it hurts inside where people can't see. Then because of some Federal cluster fuck, the guy got loose and came after me again. Hurt me even worse. That's where Fraser came in. He saved me, made me want to live again. End of story."  
  
"Doesn't sound like it."  
  
"Doesn't sound like what?"  
  
"The end of the story. Sounds like you're still hurting. Is that why you quit being a cop because of what happened?"  
  
"Yeah, mostly." Ray sighed deeply, blocking out the images of the kids he killed, and poured himself another drink. He'd need a few more to get back to the buzz again, the cushiony, safe place he missed so much. "Anyway, it's history. Right now it's all about Ben, getting him up and raring to go again. Being a Mountie's important to him, his whole life."  
  
"Next to you."  
  
Ray gave a small smile and nodded as he took another drink. "Yeah, next to me."

* * *

For the first time since the shooting, Ray slept, and he slept hard, like a rock, and he didn't want to get up even though he knew he had to. He had things to do, things he couldn't put off, but if he'd had his way, he would've kept snoozing for at least a day or two to catch up. He smelled coffee like the day before, but this time, he put his head under his pillow. Sure, he might've gotten some shut-eye for a change, but he was paying for it in spades. Hangovers sucked.

A knock came from the doorway. "You want some breakfast?"  
  
Dief stood up on the bed beside Ray and growled a warning. "What's with the damn wolf? I thought we were finally friends?"  
  
Ray pushed the pillow away and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, and putting a hand on Dief's neck. As he petted him, Dief lay down, but he never took his wolfie gaze off Peter. "Guess you're still a question mark."  
  
"We were fine last night while you were gone. He even ate some of the chili."  
  
"That explains the chili farts all night."  
  
"Man, sorry about that. I didn't think "  
  
"Doesn't matter. I'm used to it. Don't worry about Dief. He's just not a morning wolf. He gets a little territorial sometimes." Ray took a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands, his overnight whiskers like sandpaper against his palms. "I don't want any breakfast, but I'll take some of that coffee."  
  
"Sure. You okay? You look a little green around the gills there."  
  
"I haven't had that much to drink in a while. Guess I'm not used to it."  
  
"Look on the bright side, at least you didn't sleep walk."  
  
Ray glanced over at his guest. "What about the other, the talking in my sleep part?"  
  
"If you did, I didn't hear it." Peter glanced at his watch. "Look, if we're going to the do the paperwork on the truck and return your jeep, we should probably get started. Didn't you tell me you had PT at one?"  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"It's after eleven."  
  
"Fuck, I never sleep this late."  
  
"You must have needed it."  
  
"Yeah, I did." He rubbed the back of his head to ease the tight muscles. "I need some aspirin, coffee, and a shower in that order. Then we can go."  
  
"Sure thing."

Peter left and went back to the kitchen. Dief turned and licked his face, the stinky wetness his morning hello. Ruffling his fur, Ray buried his face into his coat. "I know, buddy. I miss him, too."

* * *

"Ray, you look awful. You okay?" Kate put her hand on his shoulder in concern. 

"I'm fine. I need to work up a sweat, get the leg going good again."  
  
"You're sure you're up to it?"  
  
Ray dropped his bag on the workout bench. "I had a late night, that's all. I've got a friend in from Chicago."  
  
She nodded in understanding and directed him to sit down on the bench beside the bag. "How's the leg doing?"  
  
"It's stiff, aches a lot."  
  
"You been doing the exercises?"  
  
"Some, not a lot. I keep forgetting."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I suck. Look, I promise I'll do better. I've just had a lot going on."  
  
"Okay, let's start slow today, warm up a little bit. Why don't you do a few stretches and I'll see how you're bending and flexing after that?"  
  
"Sure, okay."  
  
Slowly, Ray went through the routine. He'd taken some extra strength Aspirin both for the hangover and his leg. It helped. The throbbing in his head still nagged, but not as bad. He'd also drunk a lot of water, remembering what Ben had said about the dehydration thing, and that helped more than anything to get him back on track. As he worked the leg, Kate interrupted his thoughts again, "So, did you get to see Fraser?"  
  
"Yeah, last night. He's doing pretty good. He could actually make a fist with his left hand. Not much of a grip yet, but he's getting there."  
  
"I know. I saw Marlon working out with him this morning. He's doing really well considering all he's been through."  
  
"Yeah? You're not just saying that?"

"You know me, Ray. I don't say what I don't mean."  
  
"That's true." Ray glanced around the rehab room, but didn't see Ben or his therapist. "I guess he's on a break right now, huh?"  
  
"With his kind of injury, it's better to work in short shifts, a little of this and that, just to hit all the muscle groups. He's got strength training right now. You know the room."  
  
"Yeah, I remember." Ray knew all too well the torture of the weights. He also knew that it worked to make the body stronger once a guy got through all the torture. "Hey, if he's doing so good, you think they'll let him come home early, maybe this weekend?"  
  
"Couldn't say. That's up to his doctor."  
  
"Yeah, I know all that, but I was just thinking maybe he'll be a record breaker or something."  
  
"You never know." She squatted and patted the mat. "I want you to lie down and let me do some work."  
  
Ray stretched out on his back, his hands behind his head, keeping his legs straight. She worked his right leg, bending it, then lifting it, using her hand against his thigh to gauge the pull on the muscle as she manipulated it. Right before he groaned, she'd stop. It was like she could read his pain before he could. "You're doing better, you know."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"It might not feel like it, but the muscle seems stronger to me. As long as we do this slowly, routinely, we should get it back on track. You might not need any surgery."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Well, unless you do something stupid, yeah, I think so."  
  
"Something stupid meaning what?"  
  
"You don't want to overdo it or do anything too strenuous like bike riding or running, no jumping or climbing, that sort of thing. You're not quite ready for that yet. Still, it feels stronger to me."  
  
Ray closed his eyes, grateful for good news, but not able to smile about it just yet. The constant ache never let up, never gave up reminding him of all the damage. "So, why's it hurt all the time?"  
  
"You've got nerve bundles all through your leg and your scar is quite significant, and, unfortunately, it's stretched right over a particularly sensitive area." She stopped moving his leg and sat back, making the get busy signal. "Now, you do it on your own." As he followed her orders, she added, "It must have hurt like hell when it happened, huh?"  
  
"When I got cut?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"You guess?"  
  
"I don't remember."  
  
Kate stared at him a moment, her face solemn, her voice soft. "Does that bother you, not remembering what happened?"  
  
Ray stopped the exercise and sat up. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and shrugged. "I don't know, maybe, a little. I mean, I know what happened, but my mind's blank."  
  
"How do you know what happened if you don't remember?"  
  
"People told me. It's all in a report." Ray took a deep breath and rubbed his face, shaking his head, his chest a bit tighter as he thought about the time right after the attack, the hospital, the pain, the terrible dread of being attacked again, of never feeling safe. Eyes squeezed shut, the image of Clooney's face slammed into him like a physical blow, his touch and stench as real as Kate's hand on his shoulder.

"Ray?"

He shuddered, keeping his eyes closed, tears stinging behind his lids. "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I can't talk about this."  
  
"It's okay. I shouldnt have brought it up."

"It's just tough sometimes." Choking up, his words tight in his throat, Ray whispered hoarsely. "I just get these awful feelings when I talk about it or even think about it. I can't can't even talk about it with Ben."  
  
"Was Fraser there when it happened?"  
  
"Yeah, he was."  
  
"Then that's probably why it's so difficult. He's your partner. It's really hard to talk about things like that with someone you love. You worry about how it hurts him more than you do about getting through your own pain."  
  
Ray opened his eyes, staring at Kate who gazed back at him with concern. He hadn't really thought about it like that, like how he held back sometimes because he saw the terrible pain in Ben's eyes. He hated hurting Ben. Telling the story or not telling the story, there didn't seem to be any way around the hurt or of leaving the past behind. It stuck to Ray like a bad dream where he was trapped like a rat in a trap and couldn't wake up. "That makes sense."  
  
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't talk about it, talk to someone who'll listen and suggest ways to feel better about yourself."  
  
Ray didn't turn down the Kleenex that appeared out of nowhere. He blew his nose and took a deep breath, his insides still all jittery. "You're talking about a shrink again, huh?"  
  
"They're not all bad, Ray. Sometimes you have to try a few before you find a good fit, but a good one is worth his or her weight in gold."

Meeting those blue eyes, Ray knew she meant what she said, had been where he was, all broken and hurt. He didn't ask what happened, couldn't bring himself to invade her privacy or add one more pound of misery to his own. "I'll think about it."

"Good." Still holding onto his shoulder, she squeezed. "Now, back to your leg. You ready to get a little heat therapy and then go for a swim?"  
  
"Sure, I could do that as long as we stay in the shallow end."  
  
Smiling, she stood up, and held out a helping hand. "Shallow for now, deep end before it's over. I'll make a swimmer out of you yet."  
  
Ray got to his feet and grabbed his bag to change into his trunks, thinking he'd already had about as much of the deep end as he could handle without going down for the count. 

* * *

"So, is this how you spend most of your time up here?"  
  
Ray snapped off a few more pictures and glanced over at Peter. "Ben got shot just a week after we got here. What do you think?"

"Sorry." Perched on one of the flat rocks along the bank of the lake, Peter swallowed some of his beer. "I know it's been rough."  
  
"Yeah." Ray aimed and took several pictures of a couple of beavers swatting for small fish on the other side. When he finished the roll, he sat down on a rock a few feet away from Peter and put his camera inside its case. "You got another one of those?"  
  
"Sure." Peter reached into the cooler he'd carried down from the cabin and handed it to Ray. "I restocked. I bought a case of the stuff. Figure we can have a pretty good blast before I leave tomorrow afternoon."  
  
Surprised, Ray stared at his friend. "You're leaving that soon?"  
  
"I bought the ticket while you were in rehab. Figure I might as well go home and take care of business."  
  
Ray uncapped his Molson's and took a long drink. "You don't have to leave so soon."  
  
"I know." They were quiet again, drinking together like old friends, just buddies having a few beers. After a couple of minutes, Peter said, "It's nice here. Peaceful."  
  
"Yeah, it is."

"God, I'd be bored out of my mind in no time."  
  
Ray laughed and finished his beer. "I kind of figured that."  
  
"So, you really plan to stay, huh, make a go of it with Fraser?"

"Yeah."  
  
Peter shook his head in amusement. "I never would've figured you for the retiring type, the guy who shucks it all and goes to live in a cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere."  
  
Ray picked up his camera, winding and taking out the film, storing it, and putting in a fresh roll. "You don't know me."  
  
"Maybe not the you you, but I know the kind of you, you are."  
  
Eyes narrowed, Ray snapped, "What the fuck does that mean?"  
  
"It means, we've got the same roots, the same background. We grew up in Chicago, one of the biggest cities in the world. You like fast cars, tough cases, and life on the edge. How can you give up all that for a bunch of trees and bears and shit?"  
  
Ray fiddled with his camera as he spoke, working to keep his temper in check. No reason to punch the guy in the head for speaking his mind, even if he was totally full of shit. "Look, first of all, you're a rich kid, never had to work a day in his life if he didn't want to, so don't go talking to me about having the same background."  
  
Peter didn't take offence, just lifted his beer for a sip before he countered, "We're both Polish. That counts."  
  
"Not unless your old man broke his back six days a week at a meatpacking plant so his family could eat and have a roof over their heads, which he didn't, being the Pickle King of America and all that. Polish, Schmolish, so the fuck what? Doesn't mean you know me. You don't know squat about where I came from, who I am, or what I want." Ray moved back to the water's edge, aiming the lens at the geese in the middle of the water, hoping for flight, wishing like hell he could get some good shots of the take off before he lost the light. "I was a con job for a lot of years. That's over. I'm being real again."

"Con job? What are you talking about?"  
  
The geese suddenly honked and lifted into the air, Ray snapping pictures like crazy, smiling as he grabbed some great shots. They were so beautiful, so graceful as they flew away, all together, one for all. He could get into this taking pictures for a living thing. Hell, he could get into it even if he never sold a single shot. It made his insides feel good again and not a lot of things did that other than being with Ben. 

He finished the whole roll before Peter interrupted the good vibes and complained, "I don't get it."  
  
"Get what?"  
  
"The whole con job thing."  
  
Sitting back down again, Ray worked to take off the telescopic lens as he explained. "Stella knew before I did."  
  
"Knew what?"  
  
"That I wasn't happy, couldn't be happy doing what I was doing. Don't get me wrong, I tried. I just never should've been a cop."  
  
"But you were a good cop. You got commendations and shit. Renny said so."

Ray put his camera aside. "Hand me another one of those." After Peter gave him his drink, Ray opened it and took a swallow before he continued. "Yeah, I was good. I got medals and pats on the back, lots of pretty words to convince me to take another undercover gig. See, that was my thing, my talent. I could be anybody or nobody, stand out when I needed to, blend into the background when I needed to just watch." He took another drink and asked, "You want to know why I was so good at being other people?"  
  
"Because you didn't like being yourself?"  
  
Ray snorted and lifted his bottle like a toast. "Bingo, give the man a prize."  
  
"But, Ray, I still don't get it. How can you trade that life for this one? I mean, I understand you've had a rough time, that you think you can be safe up here in the wild blue yonder, but you already found out that's not the case. You can get killed here as easily as you can in Chicago. It's just that in Chicago, you can have a lot more fun before it happens."  
  
Ray studied the man several more moments before he answered, "You know, it's probably a good thing you're leaving tomorrow."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because you're pissing me off. You just don't get it. You don't have a clue about why I want to be here."  
  
"You don't have to stay because of Fraser, Ray. He'd come back if you asked him to."  
  
"I'm not asking him to."  
  
"But why not? I'm telling you, you're going to get bored out of your skull before it's over. You'll start to resent him dragging your ass up here. You two will start fighting and then what? What will you have then? You'll be alone and you'll have to start all over again."  
  
Ray finished his beer, stood up and packed his camera away. "I'll take my chances." He stepped closer and paused, meeting Peter's gaze, his temper barely in check. "Don't ever, and I mean ever, say this shit again, not to me, not to Fraser, ever. Got it?"  
  
"Why? Is the truth too hard to hear?"  
  
Ray snorted in amusement, impressed by the guy's toughness. Pulaski had balls, he'd give him that. Many a perp had been turned to quivering jelly with that stare. Ray grinned as he snarled, "Fuck you. Now, do you want to stand around bitching in the woods or do you want to get back before the bugs eat us alive?"  
  
Peter swatted a mosquito on his left arm for effect. "The lemon shit is wearing off. They're biting like crazy."  
  
"Yeah, well, you have to keep putting it on. Let's go. I need to eat something before I go see Ben."  
  
Peter packed up his cooler while Ray grabbed his equipment. They traveled the trail in a line, Ray in front of Peter and Dief running just ahead of both men. Neither man spoke until they arrived back at the cabin. As they headed inside, Peter said, "I'm sorry about what I said."  
  
Ray shrugged it off and put his stuff on the counter. "You want some coffee?"  
  
"No, but I'll have another beer." He got one and sat down at the table while Ray put the pot on. Ray grabbed some white bread and peanut butter to make a sandwich. "You want one?"  
  
"No, thanks. I was thinking I might go into town when you leave."  
  
Ray stopped and stared, not sure if that was a good plan or not. "You want to see Ben before you go home?"  
  
"I'd like to, but I know that's a lousy idea. No, I thought I'd have something to eat and maybe find a bar or something, check out the local nightlife."  
  
Screwing the lid back on the jar, Ray put the other piece of bread on top of his sandwich, mashing the slices together. He took a bite and spoke with his mouth full. "You pick somebody up, don't bring him back here."  
  
Snorting, Peter leaned in, his elbows on the table, one hand still holding his bottle of beer. "They don't have motels in Canada?"  
  
Ray put sandwich down and got up, anxious and unsettled. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter, waiting impatiently for the coffee to finish brewing. He thought about Renny, about how he loved this guy and the guy didn't seem to give a shit about him, at least not anymore. That had to hurt. "Look, I don't give a rat's ass who you fuck, but I don't want to see it or hear about it, okay?"  
  
"You jealous?"  
  
"You're an asshole, you know that?"  
  
"Yeah, I know. You didn't answer the question though. You jealous you can't play the field like me, have a little variety to your life? I mean, don't you get bored with the same guy every night even if it is Fraser?"  
  
Cocking his head sideways, Ray studied the man sitting at his kitchen table. He wondered how the hell Renny could've fallen for such a jerk. Ray rubbed his face with one hand and tried to put into words why he wanted what he wanted. "I guess there are two kinds of people, people like me and Ben, people like Renny, guys who like having someone who cares whether you live or die. Then there are guys like you, guys who just want to get laid, to get off, guys who just don't give a fuck."  
  
"You judging me?"  
  
"I'm just saying, that's not me. Before Ben, it was Stella. Since I was a kid, it was always Stella, nobody else. I kind of lost it after she left me, kind of lost who I was. I guess I'm one of those people who define myself by the person I'm with. I was with Stella for so long, I never had a chance to get to know who or what I was without her, not really. Maybe that's why I got lost in the undercover work so easy. But then I met Ben and I found my way again." Ray curled his right hand into a fist and brought it to rest over his heart. "He's like this power in my life, my direction, the one person who makes me whole, makes me want to keep breathing."  
  
Peter hesitated, but then spoke softly. "Look, I get that you love the guy, but how come you don't want to keep breathing for yourself? I mean, no offence, Ray, but it doesn't seem healthy to me to be that attached to any one person."  
  
"Maybe it's not, maybe I am just a needy fuck, maybe that's why they call it being lovesick. I don't know. I just know that without Ben, I don't know where I am, or what I want, or if I even want to hang in there, you know? That's just how it is with me. I don't give a shit if you don't get it or not, but don't keep busting my ass about it, okay?"

"Okay, no problem. It's your life."  
  
"You've got that right."  
  
"Beside, I've got my own shit to worry about."  
  
"Maybe that's why you're messing in mine. You don't want to fix your own shit."  
  
"Maybe. Anyway, I'm going to clean up. I figure you can drop me off at Mimi's and then I'll hit a bar or two."  
  
"You planning on staying in town all night?"  
  
"Depends. Stop back at Mimi's after visiting hours. If I'm there, I didn't get lucky. If I'm not, well, I'll get a ride back out here to pick up my stuff before the flight, okay?"  
  
"Sure, okay."  
  
Peter got up and headed to the can, but then stopped. "You know, we could go out together after you see Fraser, just the two of us. It'd be fun, sort of like a late bachelor's party. What do you say, one last night on the town before I head south?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Come on, Ray. What are you afraid of? Your leash too short even for one night out with the boys?"  
  
Face hot, his gut tight, Ray shook his head. "Get cleaned up. I'm leaving in fifteen minutes."  
  
"You didn't answer "  
  
Talking through his clenched teeth, Ray worked hard not to punch the grin off Peter's smug face. "Stop being such a pain in the ass."  
  
"Must mean something if you think I'm annoying."  
  
"Yeah, it means you're pissing me off. Now shut up and get going before I decide to do something stupid."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like punching your lights out."  
  
Peter's grin faded, suddenly not quite so sure of himself, not quite so fucking cocky. "You wouldn't hit me."  
  
"Only because Renny wouldnt like me busting your face up, but you keeping talking bullshit and I might forget he likes you so much."  
  
Peter disappeared into the can and Ray finally got a whiff of the coffee boiling. "About fucking time."

* * *

Dressed in a sweat suit, the tip of his pen in his mouth, Ben sat at the writing table by the window. Ray walked in, putting the paper bag on the table. "Hey, what are you doing, writing in your journal again?"  
  
Ben put the pen down and closed the book in front of him. "I was just trying to gather my thoughts and process my feelings about this whole situation."  
  
"Any luck with that?"  
  
"A bit."  
  
"That's better than nothing."  
  
"True." Ben eyed the bag for the first time and sniffed the air. He smiled even bigger as he asked hopefully, "Caribou stew?"

"Yep."  
  
"And biscuits?"  
  
"Hey, it's not stew without Mimi's biscuits." Ray pushed the bag closer, resisting the urge to take the container out of the bag. He knew Ben needed to do that himself, to take care of himself and not be waited on hand and foot. He knew that, but it wasn't so easy to do. He had to keep reminding himself, making sure that he didn't cave in and baby him like he wanted to.

"Thank you, Ray. I just had supper a few hours ago, but I'm afraid I didn't eat much."  
  
"Which means the food here isn't much better than at the hospital, right?"  
  
"Unfortunately, it seems rather less than adequate in satisfying more than the most rudimentary levels of appetite."

"Yeah, like I said, it sucks. So, dig in. Don't mind me."  
  
Ray sat down on the edge of the hospital bed and watched as Ben worked awkwardly to get the bowl of stew and wrapped biscuits out of the paper bag. It took a little more effort than it would've with two hands, but he did it. It did Ray's heart good to see Ben chow down with a lot more energy than he had the night before. "How's the therapy going? You're looking a lot better."

Ben wiped his face with his napkin, knocking off some crumbs. "It's going fairly well." He lifted his left arm in the sling just slightly, his face tight when it came up a few inches. Relaxing, he smiled. "I can move it, Ray, and, more importantly, I can feel it."  
  
"Looked like it hurt."  
  
"It did, but it's not numb anymore and Marlon says that's a good sign."  
  
"You were worried about that, huh, that whole numbness thing?"  
  
"More than I was willing to admit. However, I seem to be progressing quite well considering the amount of damage."  
  
"That's great. Now eat your stew before it gets cold."  
  
"Ray, I've eaten cold stew before." Ben cocked his head, still smiling as he stared. "It's so good to see you."  
  
"I was just here last night."  
  
"I know, but I find myself missing your company throughout the day. I suppose I got quite spoiled having you around during my convalescence. Now, I'm having to adjust to your absence. I'm finding that even more difficult than I first imagined."  
  
Face cracked into a wide grin, Ray nodded in complete understanding. "Same here. I mean, I don't miss the hospital part, but I miss having you around to make my life crazy."  
  
Satisfied with that, Ben tackled the rest of the stew and biscuits. Ray got him a big glass of water and put it on the desk before Ben choked. "Jeez, slow down before you bust a gut. Hungry much?"  
  
After he drank half the water, Ben used his napkin before he answered. "They served something called chicken surprise tonight, Ray. The only surprise would be that it might actually be some variant form of poultry."  
  
Ray chuckled. "I've missed this."  
  
"This?"  
  
"Yeah, this, you, the way you talk, the way things with you are always a little different than the average conversation." Ray palmed the back of Ben's head before he dipped in for a quick kiss. The flavor of the meal still lingered, but Ray didnt mind. "You taste like stew."  
  
Ben pulled back, his face a little sadder as he met Ray's gaze. "You've been drinking again."  
  
"Just a couple of beers this afternoon with Peter." Ray pulled away and sat back down on the bed, determined not to be too defensive and start a fight. "He's leaving tomorrow."  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
"You still jealous?"  
  
Ben tugged his ear for a few seconds while he considered the question. "I've been thinking about that quite a bit today. I don't think it's jealousy so much as concern."  
  
"Concern about what?"  
  
"Renny's mentioned that he thinks Peter drinks too much."  
  
"When did you talk to Renny?"  
  
"He called last night."  
  
"You can get phone calls after hours? I thought they said you weren't supposed to have personal calls."  
  
"I'm not, but since it was long distance and he said he was a constable, they made an exception. He mentioned several disturbing things. I believe he's expressed similar fears to you."  
  
"Yeah, he did." Ray rubbed the back of his neck, thinking over the last couple of days. "Sure, Peter drinks some, but I wouldn't call him a lush or anything. I don't think that's his worse problem, not when it comes to Renny anyway."  
  
"Then what is?"  
  
"He can't keep it in his pants."  
  
"Can't keep what in his pants?"  
  
Ray snorted in amusement. "Come on, Ben, think about it."  
  
Ben considered the expression more carefully and then suddenly flushed a deep pink color. After all the pale days since the shooting, it was a good look. "Good Lord, you're referring to his promiscuous nature. It's no wonder Renny was so upset."  
  
"Yeah, Peter admitted to cheating, more than once and even after he promised Renny he wouldn't. I figure if he's going to be a slut, Renny's better off without him. Just goes to show, you never can tell about a person. I thought they had something special going, but I guess not."

"Well, that certainly explains a lot of the more cryptic comments Renny made last night." Ben turned his attention back to Ray full force. "I'm glad he's leaving then. He's a bad influence."  
  
"Bad influence?"  
  
"Yes, what with the drinking and kissing you without permission."  
  
"Nobody forced me to drink, Ben. That's on me. And, besides, it was just a little kiss."  
  
Ben's face darkened and he shook his head. "Ray, I'm not ashamed to admit, I'll be glad he's gone."  
  
"Yeah, I get that. But that whole bad influence thing, that's bogus. I make my own decisions."  
  
"You've been sober for months, Ray. Then he shows up and "  
  
"What? I lose the ability to think for myself?"  
  
Ben relaxed slightly and then shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. I just worry."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I've heard this tune before, so let's drop it."  
  
"Certainly. So, how did your physiotherapy go today?"  
  
"Pretty good. Kate says I'm doing better. She said I might not have to do surgery on the leg if I keep up the good work."  
  
Ben's face brightened. "That's wonderful news, Ray."  
  
Ray hugged himself, fighting off the superstitious idea that talking about a thing out loud could jinx it. He wanted to share this with Ben, to let him know that he wasn't some lame guy who never made progress. "Of course, I can't fuck it up by doing too much too soon, but she sounded really sincere. I've still got a lot of work to do, but I feel good about it."  
  
"As you should."  
  
Ray stared at his partner and then relaxed slightly. "What about you? What's old Marlon got you doing?"  
  
"Several different things to increase both strength and flexibility. My overall endurance has improved. I'm going for my first walk tomorrow."  
  
That got Ray's attention but good. "During the day or with me and Dief?"  
  
"I'm hoping for both. Marlon says if I do well tomorrow with him, that he'd have no problem with me taking a short outing with you during visiting hours."  
  
Running a hand through his hair, all excited about the prospect, Ray paced the small area of the room. "That's great, that's greatness. I'll bring Dief with me tomorrow." He stopped and stared at Ben. "You know what this means, right? It means he thinks you're nearly ready to go home."  
  
"I asked him about that. The final decision will be made by Dr. Egan, but Marlon certainly seemed optimistic. He said I made amazing progress for just a few days of therapy."  
  
Ray paused, suddenly concerned. "But you're not overdoing it or anything, right? I mean, that could cause a setback or something. You want to be careful about shit like that."  
  
"I am being careful, Ray. I assure, I'm doing everything in my power to be released at the soonest juncture without injury."  
  
Ray kissed him again, excited, his tongue sneaking in quickly before he pulled away. "This is the best news I've heard in a long time."  
  
"I know."  
  
All jittery inside, Ray paced again, talking faster than usual. "You haven't even seen the cabin yet, not the new cabin anyway. It's great, Ben. You'll like it. I like it. God, I can't wait for you to be there."  
  
"I'll still need physiotherapy even when I'm released from care here, Ray."  
  
"I know that, but we can deal with all that later. The point is, you'll be home, we'll be together, no more of you being stuck inside a fucking hospital." Ray brushed away a quick tear and sat down on the bed, wondering why he had to be such a big crybaby all the time. "Sorry."  
  
"For what? For wanting me home?"  
  
"No, not for that. I guess for being such a head case. I just miss you, that's all."  
  
"I miss you, too, Ray."  
  
"Yeah?"

"Absolutely."  
  
They sat together in silence for a few moments before Ben spoke quietly. "I met with Dr. Littlejohn today."  
  
Ray's head came up. "Littlejohn?"  
  
"The psychologist."  
  
"Oh, right, I remember. That explains the journal, huh?"  
  
"Somewhat. He did suggest that I continue the writing process as a way to figure out my own mind about certain issues. It does seem to help."  
  
"So, you liked him?"  
  
"Yes, I did, though, he's not at all like Dr. Reese."  
  
"That's a plus in my book."  
  
Ben smiled and shrugged. "I do remember your contention with Dr. Reese, but say what you will, he did a good job with suggestions about confronting some of my own problems."  
  
"I know and I'm glad about that." Ray changed the subject back to the new shrink. The less said about that quack Reese, the better. "So, this Littlejohn guy, you think he's going to help fix your troubles?"  
  
"I don't know about fixing my troubles, as you refer to it, but he does have a rather holistic approach that I find rather fascinating."  
  
"Holiwhatsis?"  
  
"Holistic. Apparently, there are many different theories about how to manage certain negative aspects of one's life. He subscribes to the idea that one can't really change one thing without examining the whole character and history of a person."  
  
"So, what you're saying is, he likes to get the whole picture before he starts picking at the sore spot?"  
  
Ben gave a small snort in amusement. "Succinctly put, Ray, and, yes, that seems to be how it works."  
  
"Sounds painful."  
  
"It might be, but it's necessary. Since the shooting I've had a lot of time to think. There are certain aspects of my life that need closer examination if I dont want to risk repeating the same mistakes."  
  
Ray didnt envy Ben the task of digging through all the shit in his past to get to the cause of his hurt. "You're a brave man, Ben, but I always knew that."  
  
"I'm not brave, Ray, no braver than you. I just need to get to the root of some of my problems by examining my actions and reactions both from the past and present day."  
  
"Sounds like more fun than a root canal."  
  
"Painful, yes, but also enlightening and necessary."  
  
"That's good then." Ray paused, not wanting to ask, but not able to stop himself. "So, did my name come up yet?"  
  
Ben cocked his head, teasing. "Once or twice."  
  
"What was it, once or twice?"  
  
"More like many more times than that."  
  
Ray scratched his head. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"  
  
"It just is, Ray. You're the most important person in my life. It's not unexpected that our relationship would be a pivotal piece of what I am and what I want to discuss."  
  
"I guess not. It's just "  
  
"You're uncomfortable with me discussing intimate details of our life with a stranger?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that." Before Ben had a chance to speak, Ray continued. "Listen, fuck that. Forget I said anything about it. I mean, if you need to talk about me or your father or whoever the fuck to get better, then you do it. Dot it, file it, stick it in a box marked done. I won't ask again, okay?"  
  
"Thank you, Ray. I appreciate your understanding."  
  
Ray got up and moved closer, kneeling down eyelevel with Ben. "You do what you've got to do, got it? If you need this shrink stuff to be healthy, then it's a done deal." Then he kissed him softly, then harder, kissing him until Ben kissed him back.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Bygones 4  
Recovery  
by Grey  
Grey853@aol.com

 

Either Peter got lucky or he was still on the prowl, because he wasn't at Mimi's when visiting hours ended, which suited Ray just fine. He hated to admit it but the guy got on his nerves, not that annoying Ray was that hard to do lately, but he still wouldn't cry when Peter finally took off for Chicago. The guy rubbed him the wrong way and Ray really didn't want to think about why that was.

Ray arrived home, tired but too wound up to go to bed so early. He got a fire started and then settled down on the sofa, sipping some whiskey, letting the heat in his belly settle his nerves. Dief curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, face on his paws, a lot more relaxed than Ray could manage. If Ben had been there, it would've been perfect, like some kind of picture book perfect. But he wasn't there, not yet. Ben might come home soon, next week maybe. They could start their lives again, kick start what Bullweather's little patsy nearly blew away. A couple of quick shots and their lives had changed to a wild ride to the dark side. Anger welled up over the shooting, about how much suffering Ben had to go through. Once again Ray flashed on the idea that he was glad the fucker had shot himself and saved Ray the trouble. He gulped the rest of the liquor and poured another drink before getting his sketch pad. With a soft lead pencil, he drew, first a picture of Dief sacked out, then of Ben, his face relaxed and sleeping. It was one of his favorite things to do, to draw Ben, awake, not awake, it didn't matter. Ben was a subject of endless possibility.

After several drinks and sketches, Ray slipped down and stretched out on the sofa. He'd slept well the night before. He was hoping for a repeat performance, testing a theory, wondering how much whiskey it took to hit the right switch, to shut down and end the run of the nasty dream show running around inside his head, just waiting for him to doze off.

As it turned out, five seemed to be the magic number. Ray woke up and turned on his side, Dief whimpering to go out. Ray got a face full of wolf spit to start the day. "Jesus, give a guy a minute to wake up for God's sake. Fuck."

Dief backed off, whining until Ray finally sat up. Ray wiped wolf slobber off his face and took a couple of deep breaths to help clear his head. He might have slept with no dreams, but the trade off was a hangover that banged away at the back of his skull, a pain all too familiar from the days right after Stella left him wallowing in his own grief.

Standing up slowly, he walked over and let the wolf out for a quick run. Then he put on the coffee before cleaning up. He took his time showering and shaving, throwing back a few aspirin along the way. By the time he finished, Dief pawed at the door and the cabin smelled more like coffee instead of a bar.

As he let Dief inside, he saw Chris Frame's truck pulling up the drive. Ray poured two cups, doctoring his own with chocolate and little sugar while he waited for Chris to knock. It took a little longer than Ray figured, so he walked over and opened the door. "You going to stand out here all morning or what?"

Sheepishly, Chris took off his black ball cap, smoothed down his buzz cut, and replaced the hat on his head. "You alone?"

"Yeah." Ray held up the mug before he asked, "You want a cup of Joe?"

"Coffee's good."

As he walked inside, Ray handed the man the drink and motioned towards the table. "Have a seat."

"Thanks."

Once seated across from Ray, Chris drank half the brew, holding the mug with both hands before he worked up the nerve to speak. "About the other night, I was out of line. I'm sorry."

"That hard to say?"

"You have no idea."

Ray leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Eddie get on your case, make you come over here to make nice?"

Shaking his head, Chris sat back, a grin on his face. "You must really think I'm whipped."

"Maybe, but I didn't say it."

"You didn't have to. Hell, I might be, but I'd never admit it. Besides, coming over was my idea. I fuck up, I pay the piper. I shouldn't have been such an ass." Chris's face sobered. "I was just surprised, that's all."

"About me drinking a beer?"

"No, about seeing Peter."

The little cop alarms in his head went off like crazy. He'd never told Chris Peter's name. Sure, Chris might have gotten that information from Mimi, but he didn't think so. Chris wouldn't look like somebody smacked him with a rotten fish if that were the case. "You know Peter?"

Avoiding Ray's gaze, Chris studied his coffee with a hell of a lot more interest than it deserved. "It was before Eddie."

Bam! The picture suddenly came in loud and clear. "You two fuck?"

Chris closed his eyes, like he was fighting off a really bad memory. "I was in Chicago for a convention, some crime fighting thing, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Anyway, one of the guys in charge had some kind of angina attack. Pulaski's EMT team showed up to check him out and transport him to the hospital."

Ray snorted and sat back. "You picked him up on a run?"

"It was more like he picked me up, not that it matters. We went out while I was there. He's got a nice house, a good line, and a hell of a way to make a guy feel extra special."

Ray held up a stalling hand. "Stop right there. I don't need the details."

"I wasn't going to give details. We had a good time, but he wanted to keep calling when I went back home. He even flew out to Seattle several times."

Suddenly more interested, Ray asked, "Yeah? So, why didn't it work out?"

"It did for a while, but he started fucking around while we were together. I mean, the weird thing is, I didn't even want a heavy relationship. He pursued me. It just seemed like once we started getting serious, started talking about the future, he got cold feet. Anyway, I'm glad I found out what he was like before I got too attached. As it was, I was depressed for months, started drinking even harder, which, by that point, was pretty damn hard." Chris's face finally brightened. "Then I met Eddie. I didn't realize it at the time, but Eddie was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Yeah, he's a good guy."

"Anyway, I just kind of went a little nuts when I saw the guy on your sofa."

"Sucker punched you, huh?"

"Oh, yeah."

Ray finished his coffee and got up to get another cup. Chris motioned for more. Then Ray sat back down before he spoke. "So, have you told Eddie about Peter?"

"I have now."

"Shit. Are you saying you hadn't told him before?"

"I'd told him there was someone, but I never named names or gave details. I didn't see the point. But, Eddie's quick. He knew it was more than seeing you drinking that made me act like a horse's ass."

"He would've made a good detective."

Chris groaned, but with a bit of a laugh. "Jesus, don't tell him that. He's always saying the same thing, that he missed out, that he would've been a great cop." His face sobered, his eyes staring off into the past as he drank a little more coffee. "I don't have the heart to tell him that the job would've killed him."

Ray had to agree. Somebody as sensitive as Eddie would be eaten alive, gobbled up and spit out on the concrete. "It's not for everybody."

"Not for anybody who believes in truth and justice and shit."

"Seems like that sometimes, but Ben does it. Don't know how, but he does."

Chris stared at him a moment and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he does. It's weird. I haven't known him that long, but he's a strange guy, kind of a throwback. He even talks different."

"That he does. At first I thought it was just the Canadian thing, you know, but now I know it's a Fraser thing. His dad's the same way."

Chris frowned, puzzled. "His dad? I thought Fraser's dad was killed a few years ago. I didn't think you two had been together that long."

Ray stopped for a second, remembering that Bob had been dead since before he met Ben. He didn't want to say anything about seeing ghosts. Hell, people already thought he was crazy enough. No need to add gas to the fire. So, he backpedaled. "Well, yeah, but Ben talks about him so much, it's almost like he's alive sometimes. Plus, I've read his diaries. Ben's a lot like his dad in some ways, at least when it comes to the Mountie part."

"Yeah? I'll bet that's a hard thing, being the son of a legend like that. Canadians really hold on to their heroes. I guess, that explains some of the stuff he's pulled, huh?"

"What's that mean, stuff he's pulled?"

"Well, you know, the whole going to Chicago on the trail of his father's killers and stuff. Makes me think he was trying to prove something, either to others or to himself. I don't know. I just know it'd be a hard thing to try and be so fucking perfect all the time."

Suddenly uncomfortable discussing Ben's relationship with his father, Ray shrugged and changed the subject. "Yeah, probably. So, look, I was thinking about what you said about the truck before, about this Jack Wilson guy."

"What about him?"

"He did a great job on the truck. I was thinking about maybe I could meet him sometime, tell him about how much I like it. It'd be nice to talk engines with a real mechanic, somebody who really knows what he's doing."

"Yeah, sure. He lives in town. I'll give him a call, arrange something."

"Thanks." Ray got up and got the borrowed pot, putting it on the table. "You can take that back to Eddie, too. Thank him for the chili."

"Sure."

Chris hesitated before he asked, "So, where is he now?"

"Who? Peter?"

"Yeah. I'm glad he's not here, though. I mean, talk about awkward."

Ray sat down and finished off his coffee. "Don't know where he is. He went out to a bar last night and I haven't heard from him since. He's flying out today, so he's got to come back and get his bags."

"He went to a bar alone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I just hope he didn't get his face smashed in. Yellowknife isn't Chicago. Most places are okay, but you try a pick up in a couple of bars around town and you're liable to get into some serious trouble."

"Yeah, well, he's a big boy."

Not willing to let the conversation go, Chris pushed for more information. "You said he was a friend. You two meet through work, you being a cop, him working the ambulances?"

"Not exactly. He was dating a friend of mine and Ben's. Renny worked with Ben at the Canadian Consulate."

"You're saying this Renny guy's a Mountie, too?"

"Yeah, they dated, lived together, but then they broke up. I kind of have a feeling that's half the reason Peter showed up here. He's kind of at loose ends."

"Not for long if I know Peter."

"You're probably right."

"So, don’t get pissed, but I have to ask, why'd you give him your GTO? And why'd he go to all the trouble to get you the truck? No offence, but that sounds like more than just friends. You two have something else going on?"

Ray fought down the urge to get pissed and punch the guy, realizing he was just asking what he'd probably ask in the same circumstances. Job or no job, cop instincts died hard. "You really are a suspicious fuck."

"And you didn't answer the question."

"Okay, okay. Right before we came up here, somebody tried to shoot my head off. They missed, but not entirely. Peter showed up on the scene and he saved my eye. I figured, since he liked classic cars and I couldn't have the GTO up here, it was the least I could do. I never expected the truck as payback or Peter showing up here out of the blue."

Satisfied, Chris nodded. "That makes sense. Peter's like that. He's not good with taking gifts and not returning the favor. Anyway, it's really not my business."

"Didn't stop you from asking."

"I was just curious, that's all."

"It's okay. To be honest, I'll be glad when he's gone."

"I'll bet Fraser will be, too."

"What's that mean?"

"It just means, if I were Fraser, I'd worry about his influence. You weren't drinking until he showed up."

Getting up, Ray paced a couple of times and then leaned back against the counter, arms folded over his chest. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Ben. Peter's got no influence. If I want a drink, then I drink. It's got nothing to do with Peter or anybody else."

"I know that."

"Then what the fuck did you mean?"

"Look, Ray, don't be pissed. I'm an alcoholic, so I know that you make up your own mind to drink or not. It's just that I also know that if you hang around with drinkers, you're more likely to drink, that's all. Fraser knows that, too, and I'm just saying that he probably worries about you."

"Yeah, well, Ben's the champion worrier, so that's nothing new. I'm not a drunk, okay? Stop acting like I am. If I want a few drinks to sleep, then I'll have a few shots. It's none of your business."

Unfazed by the harsh tone, Chris kept at it. "I remember when I was drinking, how I'd drink to relax, drink to sleep, drink to keep going. It catches up with a guy, Ray. It's not the answer. I think you know that and that's why you're so defensive."

"I'm not defensive. I'm just tired of you thinking I'm a boozehound when I'm not. Besides, this is between Ben and me, so stay out of it."

Instead of getting angry, Chris studied him a few moments and stood up. "Fine. I said what I meant to say. I would ask one favor, though."

"What's that?"

"Don't tell Peter about me being here in Yellowknife. I'd just as soon he not know."

Relaxing, relieved that it wasn't another invitation to AA, Ray nodded. "Sure, I won't say anything."

"Thanks." Chris picked up the pot and stepped to the door. "Tell Fraser, that as soon as he's able, Eddie and I want you two to come to supper, okay?"

"I'll tell him."

"Later, Ray. Let me know if you or Fraser need anything."

"I will. Thanks."

As soon as he left, Ray shut the door, and leaned back against it. He liked Chris, but the constant AA/drunk shit wore thin. He motioned for Dief, grabbed his camera, and decided to take some pictures to show Ben later.

Walking back to the cabin, Ray saw an unfamiliar Jeep in the driveway and a tall, dirty blonde leaning back against its door as he smoked a cigarette. The guy wore tight jeans and a black tank top, all for the sole purpose of showing off his pumped up muscles and pretty impressive package. He turned when he heard Ray and the wolf, dropping the butt and toeing it into the dirt. Then he held out a hand, his face suddenly all a big smile with lots of capped teeth. "You must be Ray, eh? I'm Howard."

Reluctantly, Ray shook hands. "You here with Peter?"

"Yeah, he's inside getting his things. I’m driving him to the airport."

Ray sized the guy up real fast as Howard gave him the once over. It didn't seem to matter where he was, Chicago or Canada, a guy on the make had the same hungry stare and from where Ray was standing, old Howard was starving. Ray hated that look, despised being drooled over like a piece of fresh meat. It gave him the willies, made him remember all those times when Clooney checked him out that same way, making him feel like a hundred kinds of dirty. Besides, Ray had arrested and locked up plenty of punks like Howard. He'd thrown away the key more times than he could count and always with good reason. Protect and serve before some innocent schmuck got served up, that was Ray's motto on the job. Cop sense and suspicion roared back to life as the jerk squeezed Ray's fingers really hard to show off. Ray snapped, "I need my hand back, Hercules."

Howard laughed and released him. "You've got a strong grip."

"And I'd like to keep it that way, thanks." Thumbing towards the cabin, refusing to say ouch, Ray kept walking. "I'll send him out in a minute."

"You do that." Howard lowered his voice, tried to pass for sexy and inviting in the man-of-the-day crowd. "You can come along for the ride back if you want. I could use a good looking guy like you to keep me company."

Ray didn't bother to say fuck off, just shook his head and went inside to find Peter standing at the table stuffing his unwashed T-shirts into a bag. He smiled when he saw Ray. "I'm glad you're here. I thought I'd miss you before I left."

"You have a good time last night?" Ray put his camera down and went to the sink to get a glass of water. He drank it as Dief sat just inside the doorway, his back to Peter, keeping an eye on Howard who'd lit up another cigarette.

"Not bad. I heard you talking to Howard."

"The guy's trouble. I've seen a million hustler's like him back in Chicago."

Peter's smile faded. "You don't even know the guy."

"Don't have to. I know his type."

Peter shrugged. "Whatever, Ray. I'm in no mood for a fight."

"Who's fighting? I'm just saying you should check your wallet before you leave, that's all."

"Howard's okay. He is what he is. We had some fun. Now I'm leaving. No big deal, no harm done."

Ray leaned back against the counter and shook his head. He put the empty glass down before he spoke. "I don't get you."

"What's to get?"

"You had a good thing with Renny, but you don't give a shit. You throw it all away. I mean, I know it's none of my business, but –"

"You're right, it's none of your business."

Ray stopped himself from saying anything else about Renny. Peter would have to sort it out himself. Renny would just have to count his blessings that he got free before it got too serious, before he'd planned his whole life around a guy who didn't give a fuck one way or the other, just as long as he got his dick sucked. "Fine. I'll shut up about it."

"Good."

Ray spoke quietly after an awkward pause, trying to make peace before the guy left. "I appreciate the truck. I really do. You didn't have to."

"I know that. I wanted to."

"Then we're even?"

"We were even before the truck, but, yeah, I guess we're more even now."

"More even? How's that work?"

"It's something my pop used to say. Somebody'd do him a favor, and he'd have to pay them back double or triple or he felt like he still owed them something."

"So, this is like what, a family tradition?"

"I guess."

"Go figure." He paused, but then added, "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Look, I wish I could've seen Fraser while I was here, but I'd better not push my luck. The flight leaves in a couple of hours. Howard wants to take the scenic route, so I guess I should head out."

Suddenly more concerned, Ray stepped closer and put out his hand. They shook and he spoke quietly. "Listen, live however you want, but be careful. You take enough chances, you're bound to throw craps sometimes. I was a cop a long time, saw some nasty things, things that I never want to see or hear about again, okay?" Ray met Peter's intense gaze and it hit him, punched him right in the gut. He suddenly knew Peter got what he was saying, knew without a doubt that the guy tempted fate for a reason, that he didn't care if something bad happened because he thought he deserved it. He'd seen that look in his own eyes too many times not to recognize it on another face. Fuck. How the hell had he missed that?

Still holding Peter's hand, Ray shuddered. The other man touched his shoulder, concerned. "Ray? You okay?"

"I'm okay, but you need to listen. Look, I don't want to wake up and get some letter saying you're dead in an alley somewhere."

Peter squeezed his shoulder and released his grip. "I can take care of myself."

"That's what they all say."

"They?"

"Victims."

Peter's face darkened and his voice strained the words. "I'm not a victim."

"No, you're a survivor." As soon as he said it, Ray knew that he'd hit a nerve. "That's it, right? You're a survivor."

Peter turned away, all stiff and tense, his hand resting on the bag, his head down. "I don’t know what you're talking about."

Moving in closer, Ray kept at it, hammering, knowing he had a huge chunk of the Peter puzzle. "Who was it? An uncle, a friend of the family, somebody you trusted?"

"Shut up."

"Come on. Tell me the truth."

"It's none of your business."

"But it was somebody, right? Somebody hurt you, hurt you bad, made you feel like you're not worth loving. So, you keep fucking every Tom, Dick, and Howard, thinking you don't much matter."

Peter whirled around, his fist pulled back as he hissed, "Shut the fuck up!"

Ray stiffened, but didn't move to protect himself as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Dief growled and Howard stood just outside the door, worried as he called out, "Peter, man, you okay?"

Peter didn't take his eyes off Ray, but he lowered his fist. "I'm fine. Go back to the truck and wait for me."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay then."

As soon as Howard left the porch, Peter took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about this."

"You have to."

"Fuck you. Who the fuck are you to tell me shit about anything?"

"Nobody, I guess. It's just I don't want to see you dead, that's all."

Peter faced him again, studied him for several long moments before he spoke. "Look, I get that you're concerned, but I'm okay. I'm not like you."

"Like me?" Peter reached out and used one finger to trace the scar at the base of Ray's throat as Ray flinched away. "Don't."

"You don't like to be touched much. Fraser can touch you, but anybody else and you're all hands off." Peter took one more step closer, his voice low. "I think you're confusing me with you, Ray. I'm not the victim here. I'm not the one with survivor issues."

Ray choked out, "Don't kid yourself."

"I never do. I mean, I know I have some problems, but I've never been raped, never been forced to do anything against my will. Anything I've done, I did it because I wanted to. Even when I was a kid, I wanted it. I seduced him, not the other way around. Got that? We're two different people, you and me. I'm not the guy who got raped."

Ray met Peter's eyes, gritting his teeth, and then stepped back, putting space between them before he punched his lights out. "I think you should go."

"Yeah, me, too."

As Peter picked up his two bags, he shook his head with regret. "I'm sorry, Ray. I shouldn't have said that shit about you being raped. It was a low blow."

Ray crossed his arms around his tight chest, the air way too thin all of a sudden. "Just go."

"Right." Peter walked to the door and stopped. "You're wrong about me, though. Nothing like that ever happened to me."

"Who you trying to convince, me or you?"

Cheeks flushed, Peter stepped past the wolf and spoke over his shoulder. "You're an asshole sometimes."

Moving to stand at the door, Ray shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes."

Howard took Peter's bags and threw them in the back of the Jeep. Peter lifted a hand. "I hope it works out between you and Fraser. I really do."

"Thanks."

Peter got into the Jeep beside Howard and waved. "Bye."

As they drove away, Ray held himself tighter. Dief whined beside him. "Yeah, I know. He's more fucked up than I am."

Ray turned and went inside with Dief, picked up a beer, and then slumped down on the sofa. As he drank slowly, he pushed away the creepy memories the argument had stirred up inside him. He fingered his scarred throat, the constant reminder that it all wasn't just a dream, that the nightmare of what Clooney had done really did happen. He'd never be free of it, any more than Peter would be free of his own demons of being fucked over as a kid, made to believe he had a choice when he never did. Ray had worked enough molestation cases to know how pedophiles worked, how they twisted it all around, made the kid think it was all his fault or his idea, that he deserved to be abused and fucked over. He'd seen the results, the damage to more kids than he ever wanted to see again. Apparently, Peter was just one more name to add to a long list.

Peter screwed around to forget. Or maybe he did it because it was just what he knew, what made him feel like he was in control again when he really wasn't. Who the fuck knew? Hell, Ray could have it all wrong. Maybe the guy just loved to fuck. Maybe it really wasn't all some big lie to fool himself into thinking everything was just fine and dandy. Ray wanted to believe that, but sadly, he didn't, not for a minute.

Closing his eyes, Ray chugged the rest of his beer and thanked god he'd found a better way to deal with the pain than Peter had.

Legs all rubbery and his body achy, Ray left his physical therapy session a lot more tired than when he went in. Still, Kate said he was making progress and that made the effort worth it. He drove to Cal's shop with his bag of film. As he walked in, a customer walked out. Cal smiled when he saw Ray. "I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah?"

"Jimmy Bass just called and said he found a couple more placements for your work. They're both in the same magazine, but you'll get paid the going rate for both."

"That's great."

"You bet. He's faxing me the details tomorrow. He wants me to help you get your portfolio together."

"Portfolio?"

"Yeah, you know, a folder with all your best work so he can show it around."

"I know what a portfolio is." The words came out a little more pissy than Ray intended and Cal stiffened. Fuck. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm just tired. You got any coffee? I could use a cup."

Cal studied him a moment, his expression suddenly sober, but still kind. "Sure, I've got coffee. Come on back."

When they went to the workroom, Cal's son took over the counter. Cal poured Ray's coffee first and then made himself a cup of tea. "What's in the bag?"

"Film. I shot all the rolls I had. I was hoping I could get them developed, maybe print some of the best shots to show to Ben tonight when I go."

"I don't see why not. I'm not doing much film processing right now anyway. Seems like almost everything's gone digital. That's all set up in a different space, so you can take as much time as you need. Any processing I do, I do at night when the shop's closed. That way I don't have to stop and start or leave Randy at the counter all day."

"You want me to go solo?"

"Hey, I walked you through before, so I figure practice makes perfect. The more you do, the better you'll get. You'll be ready to come work for me in no time."

"That'll all depend on Ben."

"How's he doing?"

"Better." Ray leaned in, sipped his coffee, and then set the mug down. "I'm hoping he can come home next week. Even then, though, he'll still have tons of therapy on the arm."

"I've told you before, Ray, you can work whatever hours you want. I'm flexible about that. Randy goes back to school soon, though, so I'll need to hire a temp if you can't start pretty soon. Plus, with you working here, we'd have a better chance to get the portfolio in shape."

"What's that going to take?"

"Time, more than anything. I've got mine you can look at to get a general idea. I figure you can go through your own stuff and pick out what you want for slides. These days, we also need to put your work on a disk, too. Once Jimmy has all that, it'll make it easier to show people what you can do. He said he's also gotten some inquiries about possible commissions, too."

"Commissions? What kind of commissions?"

"Don't know the details, but that usually means somebody wants you to do a series of shots, either for a magazine or brochure. It can be professional magazines, but it's usually a private foundation or the government. I did a lot of commission work a few years ago to promote tourism. Jimmy got me the job and it helped pay off quite a few bills. To be honest, commission work's the bread and butter for a lot of professional photographers. It's how you build up your name. The more you do, the more work you get. That's if it's any good, and your work is good, Ray."

"Thanks. This commission thing, that sounds promising." Ray finished off his coffee, but didn't make a move to get up. He just sat there, his head pounding, pinching his nose. "You got any aspirin?"

"You got a headache, eh?"

"Yeah, a real doozey."

Cal got him the pills and a glass of water. He watched as Ray downed them both. He cleared his throat before he asked, "Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"You been drinking?"

Startled by the question, Ray put the glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's just a headache. Why the third degree?"

"What you do is your business, but you look a little worse for wear, that's all." Cal sat down in the seat beside him at the worktable. "Look, I know it's been rough. I don't know how well I'd have held up if something had happened to Angela, the way it happened to Fraser. You've done really well, considering. It's just that it's been my experience that drinking can be one of those slippery slopes for some people. A guy starts out small, just a few beers here and there, but then he slides down on his ass before he knows it sometimes."

Ray swallowed hard, remember the tragic story Cal had told him about his brother. "I’m not him. I'm not your brother."

"I know that, but I'm here if you need to talk about anything besides your pictures, Ray. I'm a pretty good listener."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Honest." He stood up, got his bag of film, and pointed at the darkroom. "Better get started. I'll call if I need anything."

"Sure thing. I'll be out front."

As soon as Cal left, Ray took a deep breath. He wished to hell all the people in his life would stop worrying about him like he was some kind of drunken moron. He could handle the booze. It was all the pity that made him crazy.

Loaded with pictures and a bag of goodies from Mimi's, Ray entered Ben's room. He stalled when he saw Ben sacked out, his eyes closed, and all but one of the lights out. Ray put the things on the table and stepped closer, wondering what the fuck was going on. Ben's eyelids fluttered opened and he called out, "Hi, Ray. I've missed you. Is Diefenbaker here? I've missed him, too. He's a lovely wolf really, despite his incredible lack of self-discipline around pastry." The words came out slurred and dreamy.

Ray could hardly believe what he was seeing, a stoned Mountie, all smiles and dazed blue eyes. "You're high, drugged to the gills, loopy as hell."

"I certainly wouldn't disagree with that assessment."

"So what's going on? What happened? I thought they were trying to wean you off that stuff."

"That stuff is very good stuff, Ray." Ben closed his eyes and smiled, his voice suddenly more quiet. "I had a small setback during therapy today. Nothing too serious, my own fault entirely. Still, I'm quite thankful for the reprieve from the pain that such drugs afford me."

"Pain? Setback?" Panic took over and Ray needed to know all the details, figure out how to avoid it, fix it somehow. To do that, he had to know the whole story. "What the fuck happened?"

Ben's eyes opened and he took a deep breath. He fumbled around and captured Ray's hand on the bedrail, drawing it to his chest. "Calm yourself, Ray. I'm fine, really."

"Calm? You want calm, you picked the wrong partner. Now, spill the beans, buddy, before I start knocking heads." Ray squeezed Ben's hand and insisted one more time. "Tell me what happened."

"No need for knocking heads, Ray. It was my own carelessness, really. I was doing leg exercises on the mat."

"Leg exercises? It's your arm that's hurt, not your leg."

"Please, Ray, allow me to tell the story without interruption. I tend to lose my place when I have to stop."

Anxious and impatient, Ray forced himself to oblige. Ben didn't ask for much, so the least he could do was let him tell his story his way, even if his way tested the patience of a fucking saint, which Ray certainly wasn't. Still, he tried to make it easier on Ben when he could. "Sure, okay, go ahead. You were on the mat. Then what?"

"Marlon reached out to help me up and I wanted to get up on my own. Unfortunately, I didn't quite accomplish that. Instead, I fell back and twisted my injured shoulder."

Ray scrunched up his face in sympathy. "Ouch."

"Ouch doesn't quite cover the excruciating nature of the pain that ensued, Ray. I literally saw stars and, much to my embarrassment, cursed quite profusely."

Pursing his lips, fighting back the urge to laugh, Ray teased, "Cursed? You? You, Mr. Watch Your Language, Ray, cussed, did the potty mouth thing, cursed like a sailor? Go figure."

Ben met his gaze, his tongue flicking out to tease his dry lower lip. "I do curse on occasion, Ray, just not with the frequency and fluency that you seem to manage."

"I must be rubbing off on ya, huh?"

"Possibly, though I can't blame you entirely. I have been known to resort to profanity given extreme provocation, and I must admit, the pain, well, it certainly provoked a profane response."

"So, what'd you say that was so awful?"

"You want to know what I said?"

"Sure. Cough it up and tell me the good stuff."

"I'd rather not repeat it."

"It can't be that bad. Besides, I'm sure the staff has heard plenty."

"I'm quite sure they have, but, nevertheless, I'd rather not repeat it. Suffice it to say, it was sufficient to make it quite clear that the injury was painful enough to require immediate attention."

"But you're okay, right?"

"A slight muscle strain, nothing too serious. Dr. Egan examined it and prescribed heat and medication."

"The good stuff, huh?"

"Indeed."

Still holding, Ray's hand, Ben sighed heavily. "It would seem I'm not quite as improved as I first thought."

"Come on, Ben, this is nothing, not after what you've been through. You just pushed too hard, that's all. Tomorrow you'll be right back at it."

"I hope so." Ben closed his eyes. "I'm really tired, Ray. These drugs make me quite sleepy."

"I know."

"I'm sorry I spoiled our evening. We were going for a walk."

"We'll go tomorrow or the next day. Don't worry about it."

"I'm afraid I'm not very good company tonight."

"You want me to leave?"

"I don't want you to be bored while I sleep."

Ray asked again, "Do you want me to leave?"

"Would it be selfish of me to say no?"

"Would it be selfish if I said I wanted to stay for as long as they'd let me?"

Eyes still shut, Ben smiled a little wider as his breathing slowed. Ray released his lover's hand and lowered the bedrail. He pulled up a chair and then settled down to watch the man he loved sleep soundly, still doped up and grinning. He reached out and took Ben's hand in his own again and brought it to his face, happy to be by his side, glad that Ben didn't have to suffer or be alone. He'd never be alone for long if Ray had anything to say about it.

Ray walked into Mimi's place, squinting at the bright lights. He'd fallen asleep next to Ben and had been awakened and forced to leave before he quite had a chance to wake up completely. Still half-asleep, he settled into a booth at the back of the restaurant and pinched the bridge of his nose, his head still pounding double time on the drums. Mimi was in the kitchen, her clear and distinctive voice heard above the conversations of the other people scattered around the place. "I said no, young man, so don't ask again."

Jeremy came storming out of the kitchen and plopped down in a chair, arms folded, his face one big pout. Mimi followed, ignored her son, and came to Ray's table. "Hi, Ray. What would you like tonight?"

"You and the kid have a fight?"

She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head in frustration. "Boy's as stubborn as a bull walrus sometimes."

"Bull walrus? I thought it was a mule."

"That, too." She turned her attention fully on Ray and asked, "How's Ben?"

"Doped and sleeping when I left. He hurt his shoulder today, so they had to give him some extra painkillers."

"That's terrible. It must have been pretty bad for Ben to take more drugs."

"Yeah, yeah, it was." Ray sat up straighter, rubbing his face with both hands. "I need coffee."

"Sure." She hesitated and then asked, "What about Diefenbaker?"

Ray thumbed toward the street. "I left him in the truck with the stew."

"Ben's stew?"

"He wasn't hungry tonight and I felt bad for the wolf. He didn't get the walk I promised and was stuck in the truck for the last couple of hours. I figured Ben wouldn't mind. I'll get him some more tomorrow." Ray grinned and met Mimi's worried brown eyes. "He loves your stew."

"The wolf?"

"Him, too. No, Ben really loves it, eats it up faster than the wolf and that's saying something."

"He's got good taste."

"Yeah." Ray crossed his arms, his chest all tight as he thought about Ben being alone all night. He wanted to be there. Damn the rehab rules anyway.

A hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "He'll be out soon. Try not to worry so much. He's young and strong. He's healing. It just takes time."

"I know that. I just want to be there if he needs me."

"You are there."

"I mean, there there, like really there, in case he wakes up and needs something in the middle of the night. Hospitals suck, believe me."

"He'll be fine. He's made it this far. You just have to be patient."

Ray chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, patience and me, not a good mix."

She released and patted his shoulder. "I'll get your coffee.

Mimi got his drink extra fast and brought it back to the table, ignoring the fact that her son had turned his back to her so he wouldn't have to watch as she waited tables. She sat down and leaned in. "Could you do me a favor, Ray?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

"It's not me. It's Jeremy. He's needs somebody to talk to, a man. Normally, I'd ask Ben, but he likes you, too. He might listen to you. He sure as hell isn't listening to me about this thing."

"What thing?"

"It's crazy. He wants to sign up for some special aviation correspondence course. I really can't afford it and he's too young anyway. He's only twelve, Ray. He can't fly a plane. What's the point of getting his hopes up?"

Surprised at her attitude, Ray studied her for a moment. "What's wrong with a little hope, Mimi? A boy can dream until he's old enough to do something about it."

"I know that. It's just he's so single-minded, like nothing else exists. With him, it's planes, planes, and then more planes."

Ray doctored his coffee, thinking about how cars and engines had been his lifeline growing up. Even Stella didn't hold a candle to cars, well, not until he got a little older and his dick decided to wake up and come to the party. "What have you got against planes?"

"I've got nothing against planes."

Just the way she said it made Ray's cop sense tingle, letting him know she was holding something back. "What is it?"

"They're dangerous. People die in plane crashes all the time."

"People die all the time doing a lot of things. Sometimes they die just standing around minding their own business. There are no guarantees, you know that."

"I know, I know. It's just –"

"Just what? Why do planes have you so spooked?"

Mimi's eyes misted over and she wiped a tear away with one hand. "His father loved planes. He didn't see well enough to ever get his license. It was one of the reasons he drank so much."

"One of his excuses, but not the real reason."

Mimi's head came up sharply and she stared. "You can't say that. You didn't even know him."

Ray shrugged, figuring he was walking on dangerous ground. He sure as hell didn't want to shoot himself in the foot with Mimi. She'd been a great friend, really came through when they'd needed it. "Look, I'm just saying that some people drink too much and use any excuse they can to do it. I don't think Jeremy loving planes and wanting to fly is such a bad thing. If he wanted to get some AK-47s and blow people away, then we might be having a problem." Ray swallowed hard, flashing on the face of the boy he'd killed before the kid could kill him first. He put his mug down, his mouth tight as he remembered vividly the wailing mother, the shouts and screams, how she'd held her dead son in her arms, both their bodies covered in blood. Bile burned at the back of his throat and his belly churned. If only he'd found away to get the gun away, if only –

"Ray?"

Startled, Ray came back to the present, Mimi studying him intently. "What?"

"You went away for a little bit."

"Away?"

"Yeah, like you weren't here. Didn't look like you were having a good time, either. I’m sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for." Ray closed his eyes, suddenly very cold. He wrapped both hands around the mug to warm up and to keep from shaking so hard.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, but like I said, there are worse things than wanting to fly someday."

"You're right. I guess I'm just being overprotective."

Ray looked over at her and smiled weakly, still a little twitchy from thinking about the shooting. "You're a mom. That's what Mom's do, and he's a son, growing up, wanting to stretch his wings a little bit."

"I still can't afford the course."

"How much is it?"

"Two hundred dollars, plus the cost of the workbooks. It's outrageous."

Ray thought about the money he'd get for his eagle picture, how he couldn't think of a better way to spend some of the cash. "Look, let me talk to him. If he really wants to do it, then maybe we can work something out."

"I'm not taking charity, not for something like that."

"It wouldn't be charity. It'd be between Jeremy and me if we do it, sort of like a tradeoff."

She studied him intently and then nodded. "Okay. Just don't do it because you think you owe me anything."

"I won't. I was a kid once. Had my dreams squashed. So I kind of know how he feels to really want something he thinks he can't have."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so why don't you get back to work and make that guy in the corner stop waving his arm around like a dink and I'll talk to Jeremy."

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."

As soon as she left, Ray stood and took his coffee over to Jeremy's table. "You mind if I sit?"

"Don’t want another lecture."

"I'm not good at lectures, never have been. Can I sit?"

"Suit yourself."

Ray could tell by the tone, Jeremy was still pissed off and pouting. "So, you and your mom, you two fighting?"

"You'll probably take her side."

"Wouldn’t be fair not to hear both sides first."

Jeremy straightened up in his chair while Ray got comfortable. After a few moments, when his mother was back in the kitchen, he spoke softly, like his mum couldn't hear every word. "I think she hates me sometimes."

"You know that's not true. She loves you."

"Then why does she still treat me like a big baby? I'm twelve, for Pete's sake. I'll be thirteen next month. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Then don't act like one."

"What?"

"You heard me. Throwing a hissy fit doesn't prove anything except that you're still too young to know what's what."

Still crossing his arms, his chin jutting out, he snapped back, "I know I want to be a pilot and it scares her."

Ray leaned in closer, keeping his eyes on the kid, seeing how nervous he was. "Why do you think that is?"

"My dad, probably."

"What about your dad?"

Jeremy wouldn't meet his eyes, his voice strained. "He hurt himself."

Ray knew the story, knew how Jeremy had been there when his father had shot himself in the head. "What's that got to do with why your mom doesn't want you to fly?"

"It's not just flying, Ray. She'd be afraid if I wanted to be a Mountie or joined the Air Force or anything else that might be dangerous. She's afraid I'll get hurt or killed, too. I get that, but it's not easy. I want to live my own life and I can't do that if she won't let me do stuff."

"What stuff do you want to do?"

Mimi passed by the table to deliver a meal and Jeremy waited until she left again before he answered. "There's this course I can take that will teach me all about aviation, everything from the history to how to fly a real plane some day, all kinds of planes. I mean, short of actually flying, it's got everything. I mean, I know it's expensive, but I could get a job, pay for it myself."

"At twelve?"

Jeremy's voice got a little louder as he protested. "Hey, I can do stuff, lots of stuff. Plus, I get an allowance. I could save up and pay her back."

"Settle down, kid. I know you can do stuff. You took care of Dief just fine, and we never paid you for that."

"I didn't want any pay for that."

"What about other things? What else can you do?"

"Well, I can chop wood or clean up. I cook, do dishes, all kinds of stuff. I'm not a dummy and I'm a good worker."

Ray sat back and pursed his lips, wondering what Ben would think when he told him he'd hired himself an assistant. He'd probably think he was getting a big head, but at least it was for a good cause. "Look, what if I paid for the course? In exchange, I'd expect you to work it off doing different things, things like helping me when I take pictures or cleaning up the place when Ben gets home. We'd keep a record of what you did and negotiate how much it's worth. We can do an hourly thing or a job-by-job payoff."

"You'd do that? Pay for the course and let me work for it?"

Ray saw the hope in Jeremy's eyes and for the first time in a long time, felt hope flutter around in his own heart. "Well, I'd have to check it out, make sure this course isn't some kind of a rip off, but, sure if it pans out, I could do that."

"Really?"

"On two conditions."

"What's that?"

"You don't give your mum such a hard time and once school starts, you do your schoolwork first."

"I can do that."

Ray held out his hand. "It's a deal."

The boy looked first at the extended hand, then at Ray, and back at the hand like he couldn't quite believe he was going to get his wish. Finally, Jeremy took Ray's hand and shook, smiling and happy. "Deal."

Ray glanced over and saw Mimi watching from the kitchen, not bothering to hide her tears.

Morning came like a hammer blow to the back of his head, the pain shooting up the nape of his neck and fisting up over his brain. Ray groaned into his pillow and rolled over onto his side. He'd slept fitfully all night, the booze only letting him sleep some of the time, not straight through like it had the first few nights. He's spent most of his dreams running in place, terrified, hiding, and hoping like hell he'd wake up before Clooney's ugly mug came into focus. Come daylight, his head hurt almost as much as his stomach and that was saying a lot. Maybe he needed to rethink the whole drinking to relax thing.

A knock at the door rattled through to the bedroom and Dief woofed with excitement. Ray sat up slowly, holding on to the side of the bed in case he spun off and fell on his ass. The world settled and he stood up, still a little wobbly on his pins. Despite the morning chill, he stumbled to the door, barefoot, and wearing just his jeans. "Yeah?"

"Ray, it's me, Jeremy."

Surprised, Ray opened the door to see his young friend standing there, all smiles and ready to go. "What are you doing here so early?"

Jeremy's grin faded. "You sick?"

Ray thought about what he must look like to the kid, hung over and blurry-eyed. He cleared his throat. "I'm fine. I just got up."

"Really? I thought you wanted to get out early and take some pictures."

Ray vaguely remembered saying that the night before and closed his eyes. He should have his head examined, taking on a kid, thinking he could make a fucking difference in the boy's life. What the fuck did he know about kids? Still, he'd made a promise, so he was stuck with it, at least for now. "Yeah, yeah, I did. Come on in." As Jeremy walked inside, Dief went nuts, jumping up and greeting his young friend with slobbery licks and kisses. The kid and dog had a great time while Ray went over and started coffee. He turned and watched as Jeremy wrestled with the wolf, fur flying and the kid giggling. "Your mum drop you by?"

"Yeah. She said you could bring me back or you could call and she'd come get me."

"That'll work." Ray rubbed his whiskery face with both hands and spoke through his palms. "Why don't you take the wolf for a run while I grab a shower? Shouldn't take too long."

"Sure. You want me to fix you some breakfast or something?"

"No, thanks. Coffee will be done in a little bit." Jeremy stood up, but didn't take off. He just stood there and stared, his face suddenly very serious, his eyes wide. Ray prompted, "What?"

The boy looked away, embarrassed. "Nothing. I'm sorry."

Ray glanced down at his chest and suddenly understood. He'd gone to the door without a T-shirt to cover the scars. He was so used to seeing them himself, he'd forgotten how awful they must look to other people. Ray fingered the longest one across his chest. "Hey, it's okay. They don't hurt."

Jeremy finally met his eyes again and asked, "What happened? Were you in some kind of accident or something?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"It must have hurt a lot when it happened, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I don't really remember much about it."

Jeremy cocked his head sideways, puzzling out what that meant, but then nodded sagely, or as sagely as a twelve-year-old could pull off. "That's probably a good thing. That's how I am about my dad sometimes."

It was too fucking early in the day for stuff this heavy. Ray's eyes stung as he wondered what it must have been like for Jeremy to see his father blow his own head off. Son of a bitch must have been seriously crazy fuck to hurt his kid like that. "Your dad, huh?"

"Mostly I try not to think about what happened that night."

"That's sort of how I am about how I got these. I try not to think about it, either."

"Is that why you have nightmares like you did that time when you were crying and talking in your sleep right after the shooting?"

Ray closed his eyes, squeezing the lids shut so that he didn't cry in front of the kid again. "Maybe, I guess, probably."

A small hand touched his arm. "It's okay, Ray. I'll take Dief for a walk so you can get a shower. No offence, man, but you stink."

Ray snorted and wiped his wet face fast and hard. He made a point of smiling and sniffing his armpit. "Yeah, I am pretty rank."

Jeremy laughed and motioned for Dief to run. "Ew, man, yuck. Come on, Dief. Let's go get some fresh air."

As the two took off, Ray swallowed hard and realized that maybe he'd better clean up his act if he was going to be around such a wiseass kid who might be smarter about dealing with serious personal shit than he was.

Ray set up the tripod and mounted his camera, Jeremy watching in fascination. "That's a really big camera."

"Not really. It's the lens that makes it look so big."

"Is that so you can take faraway pictures close up?"

Ray checked the viewfinder and focused on the loons swimming around on the far side of the lake. "Yeah." He stood up and motioned for the boy to come closer to the camera. "Want to see?"

"Sure." Excited, Jeremy peeked through the viewfinder with his right eye, squeezing the other shut. "Wow, it's like you're right there."

Grinning, Ray nodded, getting a jolt from the kid's excitement. "Yeah, it is pretty cool, huh?"

The boy stood up and stepped back. "So, you like birds?"

"Sure."

"Me, too. When you think about it, they were the first pilots. They can fly so good because they've got hollow bones and feathers. All the great designers drew up their plans based on birds."

Ray chuckled as he set up the shot again and snapped off some pictures. "I figured you'd bring it back around to planes somehow."

"Sorry."

"That's okay."

 

"Really?"

Ray studied the boy for a second before he answered, "Sure. You like planes, nothing wrong with that. It's okay to talk about what you like. I used to drive people crazy with car talk. Not my dad so much, since he liked cars, too, but my mum, yeah, she'd get an earful and get tired of it. She'd shoo us out to the garage and out of her hair when she'd had all she could handle."

"My mom's like that. She doesn't like me talking about them so much. Says I need to diversify my interests."

"Diversify your interests? What's she doing, hanging around Fraser and learning big words?"

Jeremy laughed and shrugged. "She just thinks I get a little obsessed with stuff. I do, but I don't hurt anybody with it. I like planes, that's all. I always have, ever since I can remember."

Ray set up another shot, this time aiming at a couple of deer that had tiptoed out of the forest on the other side of the lake to get a drink of water. That was the great thing about the shoreline, lots of different animals and all of them thirsty. He talked as he worked the camera. "You have toy planes as a kid or something?"

"Yeah, I did. My dad bought them for me."

Well, that explained a lot. Ray stood up and changed a few settings. "You and your dad play with the planes together?"

Jeremy's face grew longer and he nodded. "Yeah. I think the first thing I remember is this plane mobile over my bed. My dad made it for me. Even when I got older, I kept it in my bedroom."

"You still have it?"

The boy turned away and walked closer to the water, his shoulders slumped, his voice tighter. He tossed small stones across the lake as he spoke. "I took it down and threw it away after he did what he did. I couldn't look at it."

"And now?"

"I wish I'd kept it. I tried making another one, but it wasn't the same. Mom got upset when she saw it, so I put it away. Mom doesn't like to talk about him, but I miss him. He wasn't a bad person, not really. He just had a lot of problems, that's all."

Ray didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. His instinct told him it was time to listen. Jeremy continued talking softly. "My dad, he was just sad all the time, you know? I don't know why. He drank a lot and that made my mom sad, too. They fought a lot about him drinking so much." His words suddenly choked. "It was easier when he was gone." He turned around, his dark, wet eyes staring right at Ray. "Does that make me a bad person for thinking that about my own dad?"

Ray stepped over to Jeremy and put his hand on his shoulder. "You're a great kid, Jeremy. You went through something really awful, so it's normal to think like that. You didn't want your dad to die, right?"

"Of course not."

"And you know your mom and Fraser did everything they could to stop him from killing himself?"

"Sure."

"Him dying like he did, that was about him, not you. You've got nothing to feel guilty about."

Ray directed the boy to sit on one of the flat boulders and Ray sat beside him. Struggling to find the right words, wishing Ben were there to help him, Ray wrapped an arm across Jeremy's shoulder. He kept his voice low and hoped that what he said made sense. "Sometimes people get really tired because they hurt so much inside. They don't think straight and they get selfish. They don't see how what they do or say affects other people. It's called depression."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, my mom tried to explain it, but I still don't understand. I mean, I could understand what he did if he were sick and dying and in a lot of pain, you know, but to try to hurt me and my mom, too, I just don't get that."

"I don't, either, Jeremy. All I can tell you is I've seen depressed people go off the deep end and do a lot of weird things even to the people they care about. But, whatever happened in the end, from what you tell me, your dad loved you and your mom."

"I thought he did."

"But you're not sure?"

"Not really. Not that it matters. I mean, he's dead now. What difference does it make?"

"It makes a lot of difference. He was your dad."

Jeremy's face turned red and he buried his face in Ray's sweatshirt, his tears wetting the cotton. Ray's heart broke for the little guy, all torn up about something he couldn't change and didn't understand. Ray sure knew the feeling. He patted Jeremy's shoulder and talked quietly. "It's okay. Let it out. It'll be all right."

After a few minutes, Jeremy finally stopped weeping. He snuffled a few times and Ray dug around in his pack and handed him some Kleenex. After he blew his nose, Jeremy apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a big crybaby."

"Hey, you've seen me cry before, so we're even."

"Thanks."

"It's all right. Now, you ready to take some pictures?"

"Me?"

"Sure. Why don't you find something you want to shoot and I'll show you how to set up the shot?"

"Cool."

Bad memories about his father settled down as the enthusiasm took over. Ray showed Jeremy the ropes and in the process forgot about his own troubles for a little while, a tradeoff Ray could live with.

Pale and shaky, Ben finished the first circuit around the rehab center and sat down on the bench in the common area at the back of the building. Ray sat beside him, resting a hand on his leg. "You did great."

Ben nodded as he caught his breath. "It's becoming a bit easier."

Ray ignored the wheezing and squeezed Ben's thigh. "Getting there, yeah."

Dief sat beside Ben, resting his head on Ben's free leg. He woofed and was rewarded by a thorough head rub. "I missed you, too, Diefenbaker."

"He's been a pain in the ass all day."

"How so?"

"He's like a big kid. No patience at all." Ray turned sideways, putting his arm behind Ben's back across the top edge of the bench. "It was like when we'd go on family vacations and I kept saying, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" over and over and my dad wanted to smack me."

Ben turned his head, frowning. "Your father smacked you?"

"Only sometimes, and with good reason, but that's not the point."

"I think it's very much the point, Ray. He should never have hit you."

Ray smiled and met that deep stare, Ben's blue eyes a lot clearer than they had been the night before. "I was fine. He didn't beat me or anything like that, though the threat was always there, which kept me out of a lot more trouble than I like to admit sometimes. The point is, I've always been impatient and I think it's rubbing off on the wolf."

"Impossible, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm afraid Diefenbaker, by nature, has always been rather impatient."

"Really? See, I don't see that. Except for the food thing, he's always seemed pretty laid back for a wolf. 'Course you've known him a lot longer than I have, so I'll take your word for it."

Ben leaned back and shut his eyes, remaining quiet for a several long moments. Worried, Ray asked, "You okay? You want to go inside?"

"I'm fine, Ray, really. I'm just savoring the moment. I've missed being outside more than I can possibly express."

"I'll bet. How'd your PT session go today?"

"Much better than yesterday." Ben opened his eyes and straightened, the movement obviously more painful than he was letting on. Ray saw the tightness around the eyes and the mouth, the little tells that let him know that Ben was still holding back, covering up how much his body still hurt from having a bullet hole blown right through it. "I suppose, if I were honest, I'd have to confess to a bit of impatience myself."

"Hey, maybe I'm rubbing off on you, too, huh?"

Ben smiled and turned his head. "I've missed that as well."

"What?"

"You rubbing off on me, as it were."

Ray saw the tease in the eyes, heard the need in the voice. Ray swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably, his dick twitching and wanting to answer for him. His cheeks heated as Ray whispered back, "Yeah, me, too."

"Ray, are you embarrassed?"

"Who? Me? No, of course not."

"Then why are you blushing?"

Ray met Ben's eyes, his voice challenging. "Hey, I'm not the one who turns as red as his uniform at the drop of a hat. I just don't want to start something we can't finish."

"Ah, understood." Ben tapped his nose and smiled, still teasing. "However, it's a powerful motivation to speed recovery."

Ray nodded in agreement. "I miss sleeping with you, too, Ben. I hate sleeping alone."

"You've got Diefenbaker."

"It's not the same."

"I should certainly hope not."

Ray snorted. "You're a laugh riot, a real funnyman." He paused before he changed the subject. "I liked working with Jeremy today. He's a good kid."

"Yes, he is."

"He should probably see somebody about his dad, though."

Ben's expression sobered. "He has seen counselors."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, right after it first happened, I suggested it to Mimi and she agreed. However, as you remember, Jeremy didn't speak for months. It wasn't until after I told him about my own mother's death that he spoke again."

"Yeah, I remember that. Has he seen someone since then?"

"I think so." Ben studied him for a moment. "Why do you ask, Ray?"

"I think he's still working some stuff out. I mean, we had a good time today, with him taking pictures and all, but I just think he's got a lot more questions about his old man, things that he can't seem to talk to his mum about."

"Did he say something to you about it?"

"Some, but I'm no expert. I don't want to steer the kid wrong."

"I'm sure you'll do fine if the subject arises."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you've got good instincts. You'll know the right thing to say or do if it should come to that."

Ray ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I just don't want to mess him up more than he already is. I mean, I don't have the best track record with kids lately."

Ben turned and shook his head. "This isn't Chicago."

"But I'm the same me, the same guy who killed a kid and let another get killed."

Gently touching Ray's face with his right hand, Ben whispered, "It's not the same thing. Jeremy's safe with you. You'll be a good friend and mentor."

"I hope so." Ray met concerned blue eyes and then he smiled weakly to reassure his partner. "I'm okay. Stop worrying. I like having Jeremy around. It's just that it stirred up some stuff, that's all."

"Stuff, being the deaths of Biggs and Jones?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm still not over all that. Don't know if I ever will be."

"You weren't responsible –"

"Just stop while you're ahead, okay?" Ray pulled away and stood up, pacing in front of the bench. "Look, no matter how you spin it, I'm responsible. I just don't want Jeremy to get hurt. I don’t think he will, but I just worry. I mean, maybe there's a good reason I never had kids. Maybe I don't even deserve to be around somebody that young."

"Now you're just being silly, Ray. You would have been a wonderful father."

"You don't know that. I could've been a terrible dad. I might have done stuff that I said I'd never do."

"I doubt that, but what's your point, Ray? Are you saying you don't want to spend time with Jeremy like you promised?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I like him. I'm just saying I'll feel better about it when you get out of here and come home."

"And how will that make a difference in relation to your interaction with Jeremy?"

"You can keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t screw up, make sure I don't do or say something stupid."

"You don't need me for that, Ray."

"I do, too."

Ben patted the space beside him and reluctantly Ray sat down again. "Ray, I trust you with my life, with Jeremy's life. What is this really about?"

Ray sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around himself. "He saw the scars this morning."

"Ah."

"Don't ah me. I'm not in an ah kind of mood."

"Sorry. So, did he ask about the scars?"

"Yeah. He handled it okay, wasn't completely freaked out or anything, but it still felt weird."

"Weird in what way?"

"Weird in that I didn't even think about them when I went to the door without my shirt. They're a part of me now."

"Yes, they are."

"And I forgot about them, totally didn't even think about it. I mean, when did that happen? When did I just forget all about what it feels like to be a freak show?"

"You're not a freak show, Ray."

"Not to you, maybe, because you've been with me all along. You're used to it. But if most people saw me, the real me, the cut up, messed up me, they'd look away in a hurry."

"Does that worry you so much, what other people think?"

"Not always, but sometimes, yeah." Ray ran a fingertip along the raised scar at his throat. "I was thinking of getting this one looked at."

"Looked at?"

"About seeing if they could maybe make it less noticeable."

"There have been a lot of advances in plastic surgery. However…"

Ray turned his head and met Ben's searching gaze. "However, what?"

"The doctor said it should fade a good deal on its own without surgical intervention."

"So, what, you don’t think it's worth bothering with?"

"I'll support whatever decision you make, Ray."

The tension in his voice went up a few notches. "But you don't think it's a big deal, right? I should just let it slide like it's not important?"

"Please don't get angry, Ray. You should do whatever it takes for your own healing."

"I'm not angry. I'm just wondering why it doesn't bother you as much as it does me to have this constant reminder of what happened."

"You don't even remember what happened, Ray. I do. I don't need to see your scar to have those memories burned into my thoughts forever."

The smack of the words hurt as much as an actual blow. "Is that what burns you, that I don't remember and you do? Is that what pisses you off?"

"I'm not pissed off, Ray. I'm just worried."

"About what?"

"About you."

"I'm fine. I'm good. I'm better than I have been in a long time."

"Really? Is that why you're still drinking?"

The conversation shifted lanes in a hurry and Ben had the wheel. Ray wasn't happy about it and snapped, "I'm not drinking that much, just a few at night to help me sleep, that's all."

"And how's that working for you?"

Ray leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands over his face. Frustration sapped his strength, made him tired all over. "Not so hot to be honest. It worked the first few nights, but not last night. I ran all night, around corners, over rooftops, through dark alleys. I couldn't stop and I couldn’t see what was after me. It was awful."

A hand settled on his back. "Perhaps your nightmare is your mind's way of telling you, it's time to stop running."

Ray jerked up, suddenly angry again, his hands balled into tight fists. "Don't you think I'd stop if I could? Don't you think I want to figure out all this shit that's making me a nut job?"

"I want to help, Ray."

"Then get off my case about it. Just let me do this my own way. I'll figure it out."

Ben removed his hand, his lips a thin line as he nodded. "It wasn't my intention to be on your case, as you call it, Ray. I just worry."

"I get that, but this isn't something you can do anything about. No amount of Mountie know-how is going to ever fix this. So, let's just talk about something else, okay?"

"Let me just say one more thing and then I'll not say anything more about it at this juncture."

Ray ground his fists into the sides of his head, his temples suddenly spiky with pain. "Okay, okay, what?"

"I really like working with Dr. Littlejohn. He's been very insightful into changing my perspective on a number of things I hadn't really considered."

"So, you're saying, what? You want me to see a shrink? We've already talked about this. It won't do any good."

"Perhaps not, but you haven't tried, Ray, not recently, not when enough time's passed to understand that you're not making progress in dealing with certain important issues. If you'd just try it a few times, it might make a huge difference in your healing."

Ray kept his eyes shut several moments longer and then lifted his head to meet Ben's worried gaze. "You done?"

"Yes, I'm done."

"Good. Here's the thing. I don't want to see a shrink. I don't want to talk about all that stuff."

"But –"

"You said we could talk about other stuff if I let you say what you had to say."

Reluctantly, Ben nodded and stood up slowly. "I did, yes. I'd like to go in now."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm tired."

"All right then."

They walked together back to the front of the building, neither man talking, the silence like lightning before the crack of thunder.

When he got home, Ray found Chris sitting on a wooden deckchair on the cabin's newly extended porch. Surprised, Ray got out and asked, "You a delivery man now?"

Chris laughed and rubbed Dief's fur. The wolf liked it so much he didn’t even get up off the porch to come slobber all over Ray's face. "Actually, Eddie and I decided it was time to give you and Fraser a little welcome to Canada gift."

"Gift? Cool. I can do gifts." Ray went up the steps and stretched out on the lounge chair next to Chris. "Aren't these the same ones you had at your place?"

"They're just like what we have, yeah, only we had them in storage. A friend of Eddie's makes them, so we've got a ton of pieces left. Figured since you've got a bigger porch now, you'd need something to make it look homey. Besides, Fraser's going to need something to sit on when he gets released. I know he likes to be outside."

Ray ran an appreciative hand over the smooth oak armrest. It'd been sanded down, probably by hand, by someone who knew what he was doing. Ray stretched out, once again impressed at how comfortable and solid the thing was. "Yeah, he'll like this. Thanks."

"Seemed like the neighborly thing to do. I mean, we're neighbors in a Canadian kind of way now, you know."

"Canadian kind of way?"

"Yeah, anything less than a day's drive makes us neighbors."

Ray laughed and thought about how Ben wouldn't get the joke, which somehow made it even funnier. "Is that a day's drive by dogsled or truck?"

"Either, both, who cares? Speaking of trucks, how's the Chevy doing?"

Looking over at his classic red truck with affection, Ray smiled with pride. "Drives like a dream. She's big, but she's got pick up, real power. I like that."

"Jack Wilson worked a long time on that truck. Did a great job."

"Yeah, he did."

"Thought about buying it myself once but Eddie said no. Said I had enough junk to drive."

Ray grinned wider as he thought about a tough guy like Chris being ordered around by Eddie. "Man, you are so whipped."

Chris grinned and kept talking, ignoring the tease. "I talked to Jack about you, by the way. He said he'd like to meet you sometime. I told him about Fraser, so he knows it won't be right away. Still, we should all get together at some point and talk engines. You know, talk cars and shit for a change. Make it a guy's night out for just guy talk and maybe a little poker."

"Guy talk, huh?"

"Yeah, cars, speed, revving the engines, stuff Eddie and Fraser and Jack's wife don't get."

"Eddie's not into cars?"

"You kidding? He's got no soul when it comes to engines. He knows how to drive and that's about it. He's got no appreciation of the finer aspects of the great invention."

"Fraser's the same way."

"I know."

"Sounds like a fun time. Maybe after Fraser gets home and settled, we'll get together, do the guy talk thing."

"No hurry. Just whenever. Jack's easy. He's always got some new project to tinker with. Drives his wife crazy, but they've been married for 30 years, so I figure she's given up making a big deal about it. You ever need engine work you can't do yourself, Jack's your man. Plus, he rents out space in his garage if you want to do your own thing."

"Yeah? That's handy."

"It is." Chris sat forward, ruffling Dief's fur again. "So, how much longer before Fraser comes home?"

"We're hoping for next week."

"I know it seems like a long time, but that's pretty amazing considering how bad off he was."

Ray's good humor faded as he remembered the picnic, the awful slam of the bullet as his world crumbled. His voice choked a little as he thought about Ben bleeding and gasping for breath in his arms. "Yeah, I know." Changing the subject, Ray thumbed at the interior of the cabin. "You want something to drink? I've got soda or I can make some coffee."

"Sure. Coffee sounds good."

They both got up and went inside, the cooler air making Ray more than happy to put on a fresh pot. He motioned toward the fireplace. "You want to see if you can get a fire going, take the chill off?"

"Sure."

By the time the coffee was brewing on the on the small counter hotplate, Chris had flames going in the fireplace. Ray settled on the sofa, glad to be home, happy to have company for a change. He'd cleaned up the place earlier because of Jeremy, so he didn’t have to worry about beer or whisky bottles drawing a lecture from Chris. As they waited for the coffee to finish, Ray asked, "So how much longer will you be able to take groups and tours out?"

Chris took off his jacket and sat down in the easy chair by the fire. "Depends on the weather. We get snow sometimes in late September, but it's usually not until mid-October before we have to stop booking regular tours. That's when the cross country stuff kicks in. The local ski club is pretty active. Sometimes I get work from them, sometimes from out-of-towners. It's a lot slower after the end of October, though. Speaking of that, I had an ulterior motive for coming over tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Business is okay, but it could be better. I was thinking of redoing the brochure before spring."

"And?"

"And I was thinking you could do the photography."

Ray sat back and stared, not sure if he was hearing right. Somebody he knew actually wanted to use his work for something real, something other than just pretty pictures in a magazine. "You serious?"

"Sure. I like your stuff. I've seen it at Cal's and here. It's good. I was hoping that at some point, I could take you along some of the more common trails we use and you could take some shots. You know, get the local color and all that shit. Then we could pick the ones that best fit what we do."

"Sure. That sounds okay."

"And I'd pay the going rate, too. Don’t think I'd want a freebie just because we're friends."

Ray smirked. "Business is business, right?"

"Well, I don't want to be gouged, but yeah. You do the work, you get paid. If it turns out okay, you could get quite a bit of work around town. Lots of Yellowknife businesses need that kind of thing. People around town, they like to use local talent, not someone transported in."

"But I'm not really local talent. I'm from Chicago."

"You were from Chicago. You live here now, with a Mountie no less. You couldn't be more local if you tried. Plus, I don't know how you feel about it, but we've got a network here that could help spread the word that you do commission work."

"We?"

"Gays and lesbians. We like to hire our own when we can. I know it sounds exclusive, but it's not. We've got straight supporters as well. It's just we like to help out. Cal says you've got an agent now, Jimmy Bass. You should run all that by him, let him know you've got some chances for work right here in town. I could give him a list of contacts."

"Wow, that sounds really, I don’t know, like work."

Chris laughed. "Yeah, well, you're a professional now. Hope that doesn't take the fun out of it."

"Don't see how, but I draw the line at weddings and shit like that."

"What? No kiddie portraits at the mall?"

"You've got malls around here?"

"You're a funny guy, Ray, a real wise ass. I like that." Chris's expression turned serious. "All kidding aside, what do you think?"

"Getting paid for something I like to do, well, it just doesn't seem real."

"It's real, my friend. Believe me, I know how it is."

"Yeah?"

"When I first left the force and came up here with Eddie, I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do. I'd only ever been a cop, so what the fuck was I supposed to do while Eddie wrote his books, did all his good deeds, and got his trust fund checks? I mean, I could've lived off Eddie, but that's not who I am. I've got to work. I'd always liked the outdoors, so I figured, why not give it a shot?"

"And it's worked out?"

"It's not perfect. Sometimes I'll get a group of townies that drives me batshit, but mostly, it's good. I enjoy the work and being outside. Plus, I'm part of the local search and rescue team and actually get to save people sometimes. That always gives me a rush. So, yeah, it's worked out. It'll be the same for you. You'll see. You and Fraser will get settled in no time."

Ray got up and got the coffee, pouring some for each man. He spoke quietly as he handed Chris his mug. "Fraser's worried he won't be able to return to active duty."

"I thought the arm was getting better."

"It is, but he's still worried. You know how it is. A guy goes through something like that, he doubts himself."

"You talking about Fraser or yourself now?"

"Both, I guess. I mean, I've been bad off before, not knowing if I'd ever be on the street again. Turns out, I should've quit when I was ahead. People would still be alive if I hadn't been so gung ho to keep the badge." Ray settled on the sofa, his eyes blurring a little bit as he stared into the fire. "I don't want that for Ben. He loves being a Mountie. It wasn't the same for me. Sure, I liked being a detective, but not like Ben. He lives and breathes it and he's good at it."

"You weren't good?"

Ray shrugged and sipped at his coffee. "I was good, but then something happened and I never really got over it."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I just don't want that for Ben. I want him to be able to do what he wants."

"Then he will."

"And if he doesn't?"

Chris hesitated. "Then he'll adjust and do something else like you have. He's strong and he's got a guy who loves him. Everybody should be so lucky."

Ray glanced over, Chris's face sober in the firelight. Ray swallowed hard and confessed his worst fear. "If it weren't for me, he'd never have been shot. We wouldn't have come back to Canada and Bullweather's little patsy wouldn't have shot him. I don't know if I can ever forgive myself for that."

Chris's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? You blame yourself for that shit?"

"If it weren't for me, he'd still be safe in Chicago." Ray put his cup down, his eyes closed, his head throbbing. "He says he doesn't blame me, but he doesn't see the whole picture. If he ever does, then we're toast."

Instead of understanding, of getting what he was saying, Chris shook his head and cursed, "Jesus, you're more fucked up than I thought. There's no way any of this was your fault. Fraser knows that. We all know that except you."

"You're wrong."

"Is this what it's all about, the drinking? You're punishing yourself and feeling guilty for something that wasn't your fault?"

Ray closed his eyes again and shook his head. "You don’t get it."

"No, you don't get it. It's not about you, Ray. It's about knowing what you can control and what you can't, and if you don't get that, then you've got some seriously wicked issues, my friend."

Ray took a very deep breath and opened his eyes, his gut knotted. "That's what Ben says, too."

"Smart man."

"I just can't get it out of my head. I keep thinking, if only I hadn't insisted on us going to the party that day or if I'd stayed in Chicago."

"If only can only get a guy into trouble. You've just got to deal with what is."

"Easier said than done."

"That's a fact. Still, it's a dangerous mindset."

Ray couldn't argue with that, so he didn't. He looked over to find Chris studying him intently. "What?"

"You worry me."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'm not drinking that much."

"It's just –"

"Just what?"

"You sound so much like me when I was drinking, that's it's a little scary. No wonder Eddie used to get so freaked out."

"Eddie's a good guy, but he worries too much." To get some breathing room, Ray asked, "So, how's his book coming along?"

"Okay, and don't change the subject. You need to see somebody, Ray, before it gets worse, before you end up in serious trouble. If you lose Fraser, it won't be because of any shooting. It'll be the drinking that does the damage."

Ray worked to keep the strain out of his voice, used his cop training to keep cool. "I'm not going to lose Fraser, not over drinking."

"You could."

"I won't."

"Keep telling yourself that if it lets you sleep at night, but you know it's not true. You know you worry about that very thing, about losing the one person you love more than yourself."

Ray didn't speak, couldn't answer. All he could do was stare into the fire and pray Chris wasn't right, that the voices shouting in his head were all just as full of shit as his friend.

After Chris left, Ray settled down by sketching pictures of Jeremy. He liked the look of the boy, an attractive kid with strong Indian features. Ray corrected Indian to Inuit in his head, smiling as he thought of Ben doing that for him if he ever slipped and said Indian out loud. But Jeremy did look like an Indian with the high cheekbones and the dark eyes. All he needed was some mukluks and an igloo to fit in with the museum pictures he'd seen in downtown Yellowknife. Ray wondered if he looked more like his dad than Mimi, because while he could see Mimi in the boy's features, Jeremy really didn't look that much like his mother. Even with his straight dark hair cut short, Ray could easily imagine him with long hair or braids like the older, more traditional Inuit wore. The look inspired him, so Ray drew Jeremy pointing across the lake, looking through the camera for the first time, playing with Dief, just sitting and looking back at him, his eyes watching every move as he listened to Ray talk about nothing in particular.

The pencil flew across the page, the sketches quick, but detailed. Ray drank beer while he worked, turning on another light from time to time and rubbing his eyes as it got harder to see. After a while, he moved over to the sofa to just rest for a few minutes, just to close his eyes for a little bit, and then he'd do some more while the images were so strong in his head.

The next thing he knew, he woke up to Dief licking his face clean. "Ew. Stop it." Ray wiped away the nasty spit and drool and squeezed his eyes shut against the splitting pain in his head. As he pushed Dief away, the wolf whined pitifully, obviously needing to go out. Ray didn't care what Ben said, they needed a doggie door or a hole in the wall or something, the sooner the better.

Struggling to sit up, Ray steadied himself first, and then squinted at the kitchen clock. It was only eight in the morning. Jeez, no wonder he felt like shit. He cursed stupid wolves with weak bladders and stood up. As he shuffled to the door, he complained, "Why can't you open the door like Lassie or something?"

Dief woofed a bitchy reply about grouchy detectives with big mouths and ran out, but Ray didn't take it personally. Dief had never been a morning wolf.

Ray rubbed his whiskery face with both hands, shivering from the cold. The fire had died during the night, so Ray figured he'd better get some coffee going and pull on a sweatshirt before he froze his nuts off. Turning toward the bedroom, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the pictures scattered on the table. Sure, the Jeremy pictures were still there, but there were new pictures, pictures that scared the crap out of him.

Ray stepped closer and picked up the one on top. Rick Hanlon, his dead partner, stared back at him, his face etched with fear, wearing the scared shitless look he'd had right before Clooney had raped and killed him. Fuck. Ray's mouth went dry and his head spun. Eyes squeezed shut, Ray dropped the picture like it was on fire and staggered to the sink before he retched. He threw up everything in his stomach, which wasn't much, but burned like a son of a bitch coming up. His stomach clenched again and again as he dry heaved. He couldn't catch his breath and the next thing he knew, he'd slumped to the floor, clutching his stomach, fighting for air.

Dief sat beside him, a scratchy paw on his arm and whining like crazy. Ray kept his eyes closed, not ready to do anything, but wondering what the fuck was going on. He had no memory of drawing that picture or any of the other ones under it, the ones of Rick dead or screaming for mercy. Ray grabbed his stomach, once again gagging, but nothing came up. He gasped for breath as he wondered what it would take for all the shit to stop. The image of him holding his gun in his mouth and firing got him back to his feet fast as he heaved more bile into the sink.

"God, you look like shit."

Sitting at the kitchen table, Ray opened his bloodshot eyes to see Stevie Garvey standing in his doorway. He had to swallow a few times to work up enough spit to talk. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd stop by, see how you're doing, see how you're settling in. Wanted to know if there's anything that needs adjusting since you moved back."

Stevie walked inside and stopped, staring at the pictures still scattered across the table. He frowned, picking one up and then starring at Ray. "You draw these?"

"That's a good question."

"What's that mean?"

"It means, yeah, I probably did, but I don't remember."

"Don't remember?"

Ray sighed and shook his head, still kind of numb from his early morning discovery. Dief sat right beside him, not budging an inch and watching every move. Ray shrugged. "It's a long story."

"Sounds like. So, who's the guy?"

"Rick Hanlon, my ex-partner."

"As a cop, huh?"

"Yeah."

Stevie checked out the other pictures, his serious expression growing even more concerned. "The guy looks dead in some of these."

"He is."

"Dead?"

"Yeah. Died while we were undercover."

Stevie put the pictures down in a hurry. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well…" Uneasy, Ray sat up straighter, every muscle protesting. "Look, everything's working fine. It's all good. You did a great job."

"Thanks, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it doesn't look like everything's fine, at least not with you."

Ray closed his eyes again and dropped his head forward to rest on the table. He was too fucking tired to talk about it. "Go away, kid. It's none of your business."

"I know that. Look, why don't you go get a shower and I'll make some coffee, maybe put these away somewhere?"

In no shape to argue, Ray gave in, just surrendered to the whole invasion of privacy thing. Maybe it was a Canadian bug or something, like a virus that just got in the bloodstream and took over a guy's brain. Neighbors could just walk in and boss a guy around, no problem. "Okay. Coffee's good."

"And a shower. It'll help clear your head."

Ray snorted. "I think that's going to take more than a fucking shower, but what the fuck, right?"

"Yeah, what the fuck? Shower, change. You get some coffee in you, you'll feel better."

It took more than ten minutes to shower and put on clean clothes. Ray took his time, kind of hollow, but shaky at the same time. He didn't even bother with shaving, avoiding the mirror and hoping he didn't look as bad as he felt. He couldn't quite figure out what was going on, why he'd be drawing dead people in his sleep. By the time he walked back out, Stevie had the coffee poured and the tabled cleaned off. Ray didn't even ask about where he put the pictures of Rick. He really didn't want to know.

Stevie sat at the table watching him carefully as Ray doctored his coffee. He drank a sip and choked, sputtering and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "God, you work in a cop shop before?"

Laughing, Stevie shook his head. "I thought you might need it strong."

"Strong is one thing, battery acid is a whole different ballgame." Ray added some milk and a little more sugar. This time the taste reminded him of Chicago and Frannie, of Welsh and all the bad coffee he'd ever drunk throughout his years of humping the job. His eyes stung when he flashed on Rick and how much the guy could guzzle the nasty stuff, the more bitter, the better. As much as hated to admit it, he missed his old life sometimes.

"You okay, Ray?"

"Not really." Ray put the coffee down, crossing his arms, fighting off another round of nausea. His stomach knotted and kicked his gut with little spiky pains like he used to get right after his divorce. "Look, Stevie, I appreciate you making coffee, but I'm okay. I just had a bad night."

Stevie studied him an extra moment before he spoke, his voice a little harder, more edgy. "My old man used to have a lot of bad nights before he died. No offence, but he looked a lot better right before he kicked off than you do now."

Ray wanted to sling the coffee in the kid's face, but that wouldn't make him feel any better, wouldn't take away the sting of truth in the boy's words. Instead, he went for the cop routine, draw out the suspect, make him talk and spill the beans about his past, take the attention off his own shortcomings. "So, your old man a drunk or what?"

"Yeah, he was. I couldn't help but smell the booze, Ray. I know it's not my business…"

"But?"

"But you really don't look so good. I know Fraser getting shot had to take a big toll on you, but it's no good getting drunk. Knowing Fraser, it'd kill him to see you like this."

"He's not going to see me like this. I'll be better by tonight. I just need to get some rest, that's all."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

Stevie stood up and took his mug to the sink. He rinsed it out and then turned, his arms crossed, his lips in a thin line. "My mom made herself sick worrying about my dad, wasted her life loving a guy who drank himself to death. So, maybe I'm not the most objective person, but I really like Fraser and I want to like you. You don’t make it easy."

"Nobody asked you to like me."

"No, they didn't." He stood straighter and walked to the door, turning before he left. "You or Fraser need anything, give me a call." Then he left, no more lectures, no more guilt trips.

Ray drank a toast to the guy's back, then shattered the mug against the wall. Dief just sat there staring, looking about as worried as a wolf could look without taking a bite out of somebody.

Ray had Jeremy meet him at Cal's shop instead of coming all the way out to the cabin. He'd cleaned himself up and got his nerves a little more under control, working hard just to have a normal day. Ray walked the boy through the processing routine as they developed the boy's film from the day before.

"Wow, Ray, look at that."

"Cool, huh?"

"Yeah. How does it do that?"

Ray shook his head and shrugged. "Beats me. Ask Cal or Ben. They know all the ins and outs and whys and how comes about this kind of thing. Me, I just know how to do it."

"You know a lot of stuff, though. It's not like you're dumb or anything."

Ray finished hanging up the print to dry and looked over at the kid. "I never said I was dumb."

"No, but sometimes you act like you think you're not as smart as other people. You put yourself down sometimes."

Ray wiped his hands on a towel, frowning, not sure what the fuck the kid was talking about. "I don't do that."

"Sure you do. You're always saying you suck when you make a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes. That doesn’t mean a guy sucks. You don't suck."

Ray took his time printing the next picture as he worked out how to respond to that. After he hung the paper up next to the last picture, he turned and stared at Jeremy who was still watching his work develop. "You know, you're pretty bright for a kid."

The boy beamed. "Thanks."

"I guess, when people tell a guy he sucks long enough, he starts to believe it. I used to think that a lot as a kid, that I sucked."

Jeremy studied him for a minute, his eyes full of understanding. "People call me weird sometimes, but that's their problem, not mine."

"True."

"That's what my mom tells me anyway."

"Smart woman."

"I don't like hearing it, though. You get called names when you were a kid?"

"You kidding? When I was a kid, I was a skinny dork and wore funny looking black glasses because I couldn’t half see right. Kids can be mean little shits."

Jeremy laughed, his bright white teeth nearly shining in the darkroom. "My mom would wash your mouth out with soap if she heard you say that word."

"Fraser would, too, so let's not tell 'em, okay?"

"Okay. It's just between us, huh?"

"Yep."

Jeremy turned his attention back to the pictures. "These turned out pretty good."

"Yeah, they did. You did a really good job."

"They're not as good as yours, though."

Ray checked out Jeremy's work, most of them a little off, the composition, lighting, focus, something not quite right. Still, they were pretty good in that he had a good eye for what to shoot. There was definite potential there. "I've been taking pictures a lot longer, that's all. You see the shot, and that's a start. Now all you have to do is learn how to get the result you want when you see something you want."

"Will you teach me?"

"That's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, I know, but I mean, I want you to teach me how you get it to look good like yours and Cal's. You make it look easy, but there's a lot more to it than people think."

"Well, you don't learn it all at once, kid. It takes practice. We'll do a little here and there and you'll pick it up as we go along. Once school starts, you're going to have a lot to do, but we can work in some camera time if you're still interested, no problem."

Jeremy frowned, his face suddenly gloomy. "School starts next week. I dread it."

"You don’t like school?"

"Some of it, yeah, but a lot of it's just boring."

Ray remembered all too well his own bad experiences. He hated thinking about how many times he'd gotten into trouble when he was bored, the spit wads, the stupid jokes, the fistfights. Of course, a lot of it had been because he couldn't read that great and he figured distraction would keep the teachers from noticing. He'd rather be thought of as a wiseass troublemaker than stupid. As he finished the last of Jeremy's pictures, he asked, "So, what's not boring?"

"I like math and science and history's okay."

Making a face, Ray stared at the kid with new respect. He understood the science part, what with the planes and all, but the whole numbers game, forget about it. "Math? You like math? You're kiddin'"

"Yeah, I like numbers. They make sense."

"I guess."

Jeremy tilted his head as he asked, "You don't like math?"

Snorting, Ray admitted, "Me and numbers, not a good mix. Never made much sense to me. X plus Y equals who the heck knows. It was all gobbledy goop to me. History was okay. I didn't mind hearing about the past, especially the old west and stuff like that, though."

"You mean like cowboys and Indians?"

Startled, Ray studied Jeremy closely, wondering if the kid was offended. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay. I like westerns, too. I just think it's stupid to have the cowboys always win. Indians won sometimes."

"You don’t get pissed off with the word Indian?"

"I'm Canadian."

"Sure, okay, Canadian it is."

Ignoring Ray's surprised look, Jeremy added, "You ask me, they should make school make more sense."

"How?"

"By making it practical. Teach us to do stuff, real life stuff, not just book stuff."

Ray crossed his arms and smiled. "Let me guess, like learning to fly planes stuff maybe?"

"What's wrong with that? I mean, the way it is now, all you do is sit around and read and listen and get bored out of your mind about stuff you don't even care about and will never ever use. Then you get out and you don't know how to do anything. You can't really get much of a job until you train for something. It just seems stupid to me."

The kid was a guy after his own heart, no doubt about it. Ray grinned as he advised, "I feel the same way, but don't say that too loud around your mum or Fraser, okay? They might have a different take on things."

"Oh, yeah, I already know that. It's not that I don’t like reading or learning new stuff."

"You read more than any kid I've ever met."

"Yeah, I just don't like doing it at school. School sucks."

Ray's cop senses checked in and he stared at Jeremy an extra second before it hit him. This whole deal wasn't about learning. It was something else entirely. "Those kids who call you weird, they ever do anything besides just call you names?"

Jeremy turned away and walked out of the darkroom. The processing was done, so it didn't matter that he'd opened the door. Ray followed him out to find the boy sitting at the table. Pouring himself some coffee, Ray pushed a little harder, "You know you can always go to a teacher or somebody if some creep's giving you a hard time."

"I can handle myself. It's not that."

Ray sat down, confused. "Then what?"

"It's girls."

Good god, the world of growing up never changed. "Girls, huh?"

"I don't get girls."

Ray nodded, solemn and totally serious. "Who does?"

"Well, you've got Fraser, so no offence, but what do you know about girls?"

Putting his cup down, Ray shook his head and grinned to himself. Girl trouble he could do, girl trouble he could talk about. "Let me tell you a story about a skinny Polack your age who fell hard for a Gold Coast girl named Stella."

"You told him about the bank and Stella?"

"Well, no, not the whole story, but, yeah, some of it." They were sitting at the back of the rehab center again. The weather was crisp and clear as Dief lay napping on the ground under a nearby tree. Ray sipped on a Sprite to settle his stomach and Ben sat beside him on the bench. "I mean, he didn't need to know the whole deal, me embarrassing myself and stuff. He just needed to hear that things could sometimes work out even if they started out bad."

"But you and Stella didn't work out, Ray."

"We didn't work out in the long run, no, but we did okay at the start. I mean, we were together a long time, a lot of good years before it fell apart. So, anyway, he's got this crush on a girl named Alisa. He's got that unrequited love thing going on, you know that whole ‘he dreams about her and she doesn't know he exists’ kind of thing."

"It's not an easy condition to be sure."

"But he'll be okay. I think he knows he can talk to me about it now, so that's good, that'll work out. Sometimes a young guy just needs to have an ear that doesn't belong to his mum, you know?"

Ben nodded in understanding and then sighed heavily to himself. Throwing his empty cup into the trash, Ray frowned and asked, "You okay?

"The sessions today were rather fatiguing."

"We can go back inside if you're too tired."

Ben met his eyes and smiled weakly, his face drawn and more pale than the day before. "No, being with you is the highlight of my day, Ray. I don't want to end it prematurely. I've got all night to sleep and recuperate."

Still not convinced, Ray persisted, "But you'd tell me if you were wiped out, right?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry."

"I do worry."

"As do I. You look tired, too, Ray. Are you sleeping?"

Ray shrugged and avoided Ben's intent gaze. "Okay, I guess, but not great." He cleared his throat and turned back toward Fraser. "I've got to ask you something, but don't get freaked out or anything, okay?"

"Why would I freak out, as it were?"

"I know you and this is kind of a freak out question."

"Now I am concerned, Ray. What is it you want to ask me?"

"You ever seen me walk in my sleep?"

"Walk in your sleep?"

"Or do other things, like draw or do crazy stuff when I'm really snoozing, lights out, there's nobody home time?"

Ben's expression became even more serious. "Are you saying you're experiencing episodes of somnambulism, Ray?"

"Somwhatsis?"

"Somnambulism. It's another word for sleepwalking."

"I was asking you that."

Ben relaxed, apparently not as concerned about serious weirdness as much as Ray was. "Well, I've seen you get up and move around when it was obvious you weren't awake. However, I'm only aware of four occasions."

Ray's eyes widened. "You're kidding. Why didn't you say something?"

"It seemed harmless enough. You'd get up and go to the TV or the refrigerator. You wouldn't stay up long and would return to bed as soon as I suggested it."

Standing up, Ray paced in front of his seated partner and ran a hand through his hair. "You still should've said something, Ben. If I'm sleepwalking, I could go play in traffic or do something crazy."

"That's not likely to occur here, Ray."

"That's not the point, that's not even in the same ballpark as the point. Here I could walk outside and get eaten by a fucking bear or mountain lion or something. I could wake up all ripped to shreds or be lost in the woods even." Ray stopped moving and stared, suddenly annoyed at being left in the dark about his own bizarre behavior. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Ray. I honestly didn't think it was worth mentioning. You only did it a few times when you were having those extreme nightmares. Believe me, those were of far more concern than the sleepwalking incidents."

Ray sat down, still pissed but able to let it go considering it must have been pretty freaky to have a screaming head case for a partner. "You still should've said something."

"You're right. I should have. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. At least you were there to stop me from doing something really dangerous." Ray rubbed his face hard with both hands. "It's weird. I used to do it when I was a kid. I think I was about nine or ten the first time. Used to walk around outside or hide in the garage under a table or in a closet."

"You'd hide in a closet?"

"I don't know if I was hiding or what, but that's where Mum would find me sometimes. I never could remember getting there or why'd I'd be there of all places. Made her nuts for a while because she'd wake up and I'd be gone and I wouldn't answer when she called. It didn't happen all the time, but we never knew when I was going to go touring the neighborhood in just my pjs with no shoes on. Summer or winter, it didn't seem to matter. There never seemed to be any kind of pattern. I nearly got frostbite one night, so she took to locking the doors and windows, but then it just stopped a few years later."

"And now?"

"Guess I'm doing it again."

"How do you know?"

Uneasy and unsettled, Ray got up and paced again, this time his arms crossed around his middle. "I did it while Peter was here."

Ben's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Did he take advantage of you, Ray?"

"Advantage?" Ray stopped and stared, his mouth open as he did a double take. "You are so off base. It wasn't like that."

"I didn't mean to suggest –"

"Yes, you did, so shut up. I'm not doing the whole jealousy thing right now. All he did was mention that I was up and walking around, that's all."

Ben had the good grace to pink up and be embarrassed before he asked, "Did he say what you were doing while you walked around?"

"He didn't know. I just sat at the table muttering, so who knows what the hell was going on in my pea brain. But last night, last night scared me."

Ben reached out with his good hand. "Come sit down, Ray. Tell me what happened."

Reluctantly, Ray took Ben's hand and settled beside him, his voice strained. "I did some drawings."

"What kind of drawings?"

"Of Rick."

"Your ex-partner, Rick?"

"Yeah, my d._e._a._d. ex-partner, Rick."

"I see."

Ray turned his head to look at Ben, wondering what the fuck Ben saw in the whole mess. "Yeah? What do you see?"

"Let me ask you first, what was Rick doing in the drawings?"

"Being dead mostly."

"Good Lord, Ray. That's must be terrifying, to draw those images and have no memory of doing so."

"Yeah, it was kind of creepy."

"More than creepy I shouldn't wonder."

"So, what do you think's going on?"

Ben didn't speak right away, but studied Ray closely. His words came out quiet and soft. "Ray, I don't think you need me to tell you what it means."

"No?"

"No. It's believed that someone, especially an adult who sleepwalks, often is doing something he subconsciously wants to do. When we were in Chicago, you watched TV or got something to eat. Here, you're drawing pictures of your deceased partner, a man about whom you have very conflicted feelings."

"I don't have conflicted feelings about Rick."

"You don't?"

"No. I mean, I'm sorry he's dead. It was a rotten thing to happen. What's conflicted about that?"

"You don't blame him for what happened to you, not even in the slightest?"

Ray blinked a couple of times as he processed just what the fuck Ben was suggesting. "You think I wanted him dead?"

"I didn't say that. However, it'd be quite understandable to still carry a certain amount of resentment for the events that ensued because of his betrayal."

Eyes stinging, Ray stood up and walked several feet away, his back to Ben. He hugged himself tightly as he fought to control himself, a rush of regret and guilt flooding in on him. He did blame Rick for what happened, but he also blamed himself. The guilt crushed him sometimes. He could've stopped the operation, should've stopped it, but didn't. If he hadn't wanted to bust Clooney's ass so much, make a name for himself, impress Stella, maybe none of the awful shit would've happened. There was no way to know, but he knew that Rick was dead and gone and his own heart fractured at the thought of how it all happened.

A hand touched his shoulder and Ray turned, dropping his forehead onto Ben's good shoulder. "It's not anger, Ben. It's guilt."

"Guilt for what?"

"For letting it all happen."

"Ray, Ray, Ray."

"What?"

"It wasn't your fault."

"So you keep saying."

Ben lifted Ray's chin, gazing into Ray's eyes. "And I'll continue to say it until you believe it."

"You think you can talk that long?"

Ben kissed Ray gently and then whispered, "You know I can."

Ray grinned at that, knowing Ben had more wind than the ghost of Bob Fraser and that was saying something.

"You want some coffee?"

Ray looked up at Mimi and shook his head. "You got any chocolate milk?"

"Sure."

"Give me a glass of that. Got any peanut butter?"

"I've got a twelve-year-old, so, yeah, I've got peanut butter."

Ray snorted at her sassy comeback. "Then make me a sandwich on rye if you've got it, white if you don't."

Mimi studied him for an extra beat before she asked, "You want a glass of chocolate milk and a peanut butter sandwich?"

"Yeah. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing if you've twelve."

"Well, then I'm twelve. Talk to anybody, they'll tell ya."

"I don't doubt that." Mimi smiled at the teasing but then she frowned. "You okay? You look a little more puny than usual."

"My stomach's messed up for some reason." Ray rubbed his belly, the sharp pain even worse than earlier. "Eating helps, so I thought I'd go with something reliable."

"I get that. So, why's your stomach messed up?"

Ray avoided her gaze and stared out the window, his fist at his mouth. He didn't want to think about the pictures of Rick dead and dying, of missing Ben, of sleeping alone. Hell, he didn't want to even think about sleeping or not sleeping as the case might be. "Stress, I guess."

"After all you've been through, I don't wonder." She touched his shoulder with concern, squeezing gently. "I'll get your milk and go make you a sandwich. You want jelly with the peanut butter?"

"No, thanks. Just plain."

"Coming up."

She brought him the chocolate milk and left. As he sipped, a man sat down across from him. "Hi, Ray. Mind if I join you for a few minutes?"

Ray's eyes narrowed, but he shrugged. The man shifted in his seat, obviously twitchy about something. "What's up, Inspector?"

Hathaway leaned forward, his voice low, his eyes trained on Ray. "How's Constable Fraser doing?"

"Better. Should get out early next week. Still has a long way to go, but he's getting there. You could come by if you want to see firsthand."

"I know he only has limited visitation now. I thought you'd want to use that for yourself."

"That's true. Thanks." Ray drank half his milk, giving the man a little time to gather his thoughts. It was clear he had something difficult to say. If he was canning Fraser, Ray really didn’t want to hear it any sooner than he had to.

After a few more moments, Hathaway spoke again. "Look, I've been informed of something you and your partner should know about. I'm not sure how you're going to take it… not well, I would imagine."

"You firing Fraser?"

Hathaway sat up straighter, surprised. "Of course not. I've told him and I'm telling you, that as soon as he's cleared for duty, he's got a job here for as long as he wants it."

"Good. So, if it's not that, what is it?"

"Bryson Bullweather is donating a rather large sum of money for a public memorial statue of his brother Joshua."

Ray's cheeks heated as he snapped, "Like the prick needs a statue."

"I understand your anger."

The guy had no idea how much Ray hated Bullweather. The sick fuck had damaged Ben so badly that Ben needed a shrink to get his head on straight, not to mention the nearly dying part on top of all that. Still, Ray had said similar things to victims, so he gave Hathaway a pass for at least trying to understand how awful it was and how just hearing Bullweather's name made his blood boil. "So, where's this statue supposed to be anyway? Better not be here in town."

"Thankfully, no. It'll be in Ottawa, still…"

"Still what?"

"It will likely refuel the media's interest in the back story of what led to his death. There might be attempts to contact you or Constable Fraser about his connection with Bullweather. I'll do everything I can to stop that from happening, but I thought you should be warned just in case."

"You told Fraser any of this yet?"

"No, I just got the communication tonight. I thought I'd tell him tomorrow."

"I'll tell him."

"I don't feel right about that, Ray. I should be the one to tell him."

Ray shook his head, suddenly very stubborn and protective. "No, I'll tell him. I want him to hear it from me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Ray hesitated and leaned in closer, his voice softer. "Look, I'm not sure how he's going to react to this. He might take it in stride or he might get really bent out of shape. It's hard to tell these days what he's going to do. He's all kinds of moody."

"I'm sure that's natural considering the circumstances."

"Yeah, I get that, but the thing is, I want to be the one to tell him this, so that if he needs to talk it out, I'm there."

Hathaway studied him a few moments longer and then stood up. "Then it's your news to tell. If either of you has any questions or you're contacted by the press, feel free to call me."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"Heads up?"

"Yeah, you know, a heads up so I'll know what's what."

Hathaway shook his head in amusement. "You Americans have such strange expressions, eh?"

"At least we don’t end every other sentence with a question."

"True enough, eh? Good night, Ray."

As he left, Mimi brought his sandwich and sat down, leaning in. "So, what'd he want?"

"You should've been a detective. You're a real Nosy Parker."

She ignored the tease and asked, "So, why all the serious faces?"

Ray patted her hand, but shook his head. "I'll tell you tomorrow. I have to talk to Ben first."

"Is it something bad?"

"Could be, might not be, don't know."

"Well, that certainly tells me nothing."

Ray took a bite out of his sandwich, hardly chewing and then washed it down with the chocolate milk. It reminded him of when he was a little kid and his mom made him a snack after school, how he'd gobble it all up to make her proud and to get her to stop nagging about his weight. She never gave up trying to stuff his mouth and fatten him up. Nothing worked, much to his mum's disappointment. He could pack away tons of food and never gain an ounce. He held the sandwich at his mouth with both hands, ready for another mouthful. "I'm not talking. You can torture me with pie even and I won't say a thing."

"Pie, huh? Would that be chocolate cream pie by any chance?"

"Might be. Torture away. I'm a real tough guy."

"Pie it is then." Mimi stood up to go back to work, but patted his arm. "It's good to see you eat, Ray. You're too skinny."

"Yeah, I know, Mum."

Mimi cuffed the back of his head at his mocking and walked away. As Ray ate his sandwich, he wondered if it was too late to call Chicago and talk to his mum, see if she remembered the whole sleepwalking thing, like she could forget how he used to claim he was abducted by aliens and cry like a big baby when she turned out the lights in his bedroom and then locked him inside for his own good.

Once he got home, his belly full for a change, he thought better of calling his mum, figuring it'd freak her out for sure to call her about something so strange after all these years. Instead, he started a fire and settled down on the sofa in front of it.

Tired, he rubbed his eyes and let his head fall back, sighing heavily in the quiet of the cabin. The whole not sleeping and worrying thing was getting to be a real pain in the ass. He'd taken a lot of poundings in the ring and on the job and never felt as worn out as he did at the moment. Even his aches had aches and twitches, his whole body protesting at once. Dief came up beside his leg and nudged his knee. Leaning forward, he rubbed the wolf's head and then got up to turn on some light jazz music, nothing too fast, just soft and easy and relaxing, so he could get some sleep.

Ray took off his shoes and then stretched out on the sofa, enjoying the heat and crackle of the fire, the music low in the background. He pulled a cover over him and turned on his side, hoping he could finally get some rest. Dief lay on the floor by the fire, watching. Ray whispered, "Don't let me go walking around outside, okay?"

Dief lifted and cocked his head to the side, his wolfie gaze locked on his. Ray took that for a yes and then closed his eyes.

Ray woke up suddenly with a stabbing pain in his left hand. It took a moment to get his bearings, but when he did, Ray stood by the sink, blood everywhere, on the floor, on the counter, running down his shirt. He held his left hand with his right, a big chunk of brown glass lodged in the fatty part of his left palm, the rest of the bottle shattered all over the place. "Shit."

Dief stood beside him, barking. Ray snapped, "Shut up already. I'm awake."

The wolf went quiet, but didn't move away. Light-headed and queasy, Ray pulled the hunk of glass from his palm and the blood flowed even faster. He ran the water to rinse the wound and saw how deep the gash was and wasn't happy. "Fuck. This is bad, like really bad, like I'm going to need fucking stitches bad."

Reaching for a towel, he wrapped it around his hand just as his vision narrowed, going dark around the edges. He made it to a chair and put his head down on the table to keep from passing out. Cold all over, he took several deep breaths, fighting off the blackness. Finally, he warmed up and his vision cleared. He was going to need medical attention, no doubt about that. His big concern was if he could get to the hospital on his own in the middle of the night.

Reluctantly, Ray got his cell phone and punched in a number. He heard a sleepy voice on the other end. "Yeah?"

"Chris, it's Ray. Sorry to bother you, but I've cut my hand pretty bad. I was wondering if –"

"I'll be right there." The phone clicked off and Ray turned his own phone off.

While he waited, Ray put on his shoes, changed his shirt, and did what he could to clean up the blood, which wasn't much. He didn't trust himself to do anything about the glass, not with the way his hands were shaking. By the time Chris and Eddie got there, Ray was on the porch waiting. Eddie got out of the truck first. "Go on. I'll stay here with Dief and clean up."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. Now hurry up and let Chris take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, sure. Thanks."

Ray got in the truck and turned to Chris. "I appreciate this. I didn't think I should drive."

"Not a problem. What happened?"

"I don't know."

Looking surprised at the answer, Chris glanced sideways as he headed the truck back out towards the road to head to the ER. "You don't know?"

"I guess I must have broken a bottle and got a piece of glass in my hand."

"And how would you do something like that?"

"Beats me."

Chris didn't say anything right away, just drove for a while. "Is it still bleeding?"

Ray looked down at the blood-soaked towel and nodded, "Looks like."

"Don't worry. The docs at the ER are pretty good around here. I mean, they can handle gunshot wounds, they can handle a cut."

Ray spoke quietly after a few minutes of silence. "I wasn't drinking."

Chris shrugged and repeated, "I didn't ask."

"But you wanted to. Admit it."

"So, if you weren't drunk, what did happen? I mean, come on, you must have some idea."

Ray bit his lower lip, finally confessing. "I think I was sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking? For real?"

"I guess. I do that sometimes, just wake up and not remember what happened."

"Bet that's a weird feeling."

"Yeah, especially when I slice my hand open."

"What kind of bottle was it?"

"A beer bottle."

"But you weren't drinking?"

"Nope."

"Weirder still."

"Tell me about it."

"Move your fingers for me."

Hand stitched and bandaged, Ray wiggled his fingers. He was relieved to see that he could move all his little buddies just fine.

The doctor was a guy he'd never seen before, some man named Renfroe. He was short and kind of stocky, all business, and obviously tired from working the night shift. "Now touch each finger to your thumb one at a time, please."

Ray did that, too, and sighed in relief. "Looks good, huh?"

Renfroe wrote something on his chart and nodded. "You're very lucky, Mr. Kowalski. With a cut that deep, it could've easily sheered one or more tendons, eh?"

"That would suck."

"It would, indeed, suck. You'd have to have surgery and even then there'd be no guarantees. As it is, the function seems normal. I'm giving you a shot of penicillin and writing a prescription for it as well as some pain medicine. When that analgesic wears off, that's going to be a mite painful. If there's swelling, elevate it. Be sure to keep the bandage and the stitches dry. You can check with your regular doctor to remove the sutures in seven to ten days. Of course, having read your file, I'd imagine you have enough experience with sutures to know the routine."

"Yeah, thanks."

"I'll send the nurse in with the injection and discharge papers."

Sitting on the gurney behind the curtain, Ray closed his eyes, glad the whole cut tendon thing was avoided. That would've been one hell of a mess with both him and Ben having left hands out of commission.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "And what have you been up to, young man?"

Ray opened his eyes to see Dr. Egan standing there, holding his chart, looking less than happy. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Apparently not. Besides, I'm your regular doctor. There's a standing rule that I get called when any of my patients show up bleeding in the middle of the night."

"Sounds like a dumb rule if you ask me." Holding his injured hand in his lap, Ray shrugged. "You didn't have to come in. That Renfroe guy did a good job. It's not a big deal."

"Dr. Renfroe's an excellent doctor, but I was checking on another patient anyway." The older man stepped closer and lifted Ray's hand in his own. "You were lucky."

"I heard."

"So, how'd it happen?"

"Does it matter?"

Dr. Egan looked over the top of his glasses, pinning him with his stare. Ray saw himself back in grade school all over again when he got caught throwing airplanes he'd made out of failing test papers. "If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to, Ray. That's up to you. However, since you're here anyway, I'd like to order those blood tests you've been putting off."

Ray tried to kid. "I'm a little low on blood right now. Maybe when I come in to get the stitches out, okay?"

"I really want to run those tests now. We've put it off long enough." The guy didn't even crack a smile, just kept pressing. Must be a Canadian thing to be stubborn and single-minded like Fraser.

His head throbbing from the bright lights and all the other shit from the day, Ray gave in. "Okay, okay, jab me if you have to. Might as well get it done so you'll stop nagging. You're as bad as Fraser, jeez."

"Thank you for being so sensible. I'll go write the order."

As Egan turned away, Ray spoke to his back. "I was sleepwalking."

Egan faced Ray again and stepped back to the exam table, his lips pursed. "You do that often, sleepwalk?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes. It's happened a couple of times that I know of."

"Recently?"

"Yeah."

Egan pushed his glasses up his nose. "Well, you've been under a lot of stress lately, Ray. Have you been drinking much alcohol at all? Sometimes that can be related to triggering episodes of sleepwalking."

"I wasn't drinking last night, but I have been having a few drinks to relax since Fraser got stuck in rehab."

"I see."

"Look, there's nothing to see, not really. I'm just kind of twitchy without Ben, that's all."

"I'm sure that's probably it." Egan touched his shoulder. "You know, the ironic thing about sleepwalking is that it can sometimes occur when a person is overly tired."

"Maybe I need a sleeping pill or something. You know, something to knock me out until Ben gets out."

Egan shook his head. "I don't think so, not at this juncture, but we might discuss that possibility if the problem persists. What you might consider if you're really concerned about it, is staying with a friend until Ben is released."

"I don’t want to do that."

"Well, it's just a suggestion. I mean, if you're walking around hurting yourself, it might be wise to have someone around so that doesn't happen."

Ray had to admit that it made sense, but he sure didn't want to have to be some wimp and be forced into it. "I'll be fine when Ben gets home. I'm not good alone, never have been."

"I understand that. After my wife died, it took a long time before I had a good night's rest."

"Hate to break it to ya, but it doesn't look like you're getting too much shuteye right now, Doc."

Egan laughed and nodded, "You're not far wrong. At any rate, let me write the order for the blood tests and then you can be on your way, eh? I see you've got Chris Frame outside to drive you home."

"Yeah." Ray held up his bandaged hand. "I didn't want to bleed all over my own truck, so we came in his."

"Wise man."

As soon as left, Ray held his hand to his chest and wondered when all the crazy shit was going to end.

When they walked into the cabin, Eddie got up and put his book on the seat of the easy chair by the fire. Dief welcomed Ray by jumping up, resting his paws on his chest, and sniffing the bandage. Ray rubbed his head a few times with his good hand and then pushed him off. "Down, bud. I'm too tired to dance."

Eddie asked, "Everything okay?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah, he's lucky. Didn't cut the tendons."

"Thank god." Eddie smiled and then sobered. "So, I cleaned up the mess. Your shirt was a goner, sorry. There was just too much blood to get out even with soaking."

Ray sat down at the table, suddenly worn out, the adrenaline of the last few hours gone. "Not a problem. It was just an old T-shirt, nothing special."

Eddie sat down across from him. "Look, I'd feel a lot better if you came home with Chris and me for a few days. We've got a spare bedroom and there's plenty of space. You could just hang out there until Fraser comes home."

"Thanks, but I don't need a babysitter."

Chris interrupted, "Neither one of us is going to baby sit your stubborn ass, Kowalski. It's just that you seem to need company right now, that's all. You can come and go as you please."

He was tempted, more than he wanted to admit. At the same time, he still had a little bit of pride left. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but I've got stuff to do around here. Besides, there's Dief."

Eddie brightened, all happy at the thought of having the wolf around the place. "Dief can come, too. It'd be great to have him. We've been thinking about getting one of Lucy's pups from Cal anyway. It could be like a test run or something."

"Eddie, I said we'd think about the puppy thing."

Eddie ignored Chris and kept on talking. "Plus, it'll give us a chance to get to know one another better. And there's a building in the back that you can use for your work. I wouldn't bother you. I kind of hole up when I'm writing anyway. You could take your pictures, draw, whatever."

Ray looked first at Eddie and then at Chris. Both seemed sincere about the invitation, but he shook his head. "You guys must really think I'm about to go off the deep end or something."

Chris leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. "It's not that. We know what it's like to come to a new place, to feel a little unsettled and disoriented. Plus, you've had a rough month or two, what with the risking of life and limb and your partner getting shot. I figure you could use a break. But, if not, that's up to you."

"Thanks, I appreciate that, I do, but I'll stick it out here."

Eddie and Chris exchanged worried glances before Eddie stood up. "If you change your mind, the invitation's always good."

As Eddie headed out to the truck, Chris hesitated. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"All right then. Call if you need anything."

"I will."

Once Chris left, Ray shut the door and went over to the sofa. He sat down and got up again in a hurry. The cushion was still slightly damp from where Eddie had cleaned up some of the blood. At least he didn't have to worry about taking care of all that, blood and glass everywhere.

Heading to the bathroom, Ray relieved himself and then washed his right hand clumsily. He went back out to the kitchen table and got one of the pill bottles. Shaking out two of the Tylenol 3 tablets, he washed them down with a cold beer. It tasted great after such a long night of craziness. He finished it off and tossed the bottle in the trash. He figured he should empty that sometime soon before anybody else showed up and thought he was a boozer.

Checking that the screen was in front of the fire, he then went and sat on his bed. He took off his shoes and jeans, before sliding in under the covers. The dulling effect of the beer and pills eased the throb in his hand and the ache in his gut. Rolling on his side, he closed his eyes and hoped to hell he stayed out for a while and didn't go wandering all over the woods, doing who knows what while his lights were out.

The paw scratching the edge of his mattress was annoying as hell, but not as much as the slobbery tongue that got him right on the mouth before he could push Dief away.

"What the fuck is your problem, dog?" Dief sat back and barked, using his paw to scratch the mattress once more to show his impatience. Ray spit a few times and wiped fur off his face. "I'm calling that Garvey kid about a doggie door. I don't give a fuck what Ben says."

Pushing himself up with his right hand, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his mouth cottony and his head not much better. His left hand still throbbed with the newness of the injury and the tightness of the stitches. Rubbing his whiskery face, Ray focused on the wolf for a few seconds only to have Dief run off to the front door where he started scratching some more. Frowning, figuring Dief really must have to go pretty bad, Ray got up and followed. As he opened the door, he nearly got knocked over as Dief ran out and jumped on the guy sitting on the front steps.

Ray did a little two-step panic and then a double take before he smiled. "Son of a bitch. Renny? Is that you?"

"Hi, Ray." Renny Turnbull stood up, rubbing Dief's head, smiling as the wolf greeted him with all kinds of wet kisses, fur flying. Renny buried his hands in the fur and chuckled. "I missed you, too, Diefenbaker."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's rather a long story."

"Okay, okay, I get that, but why didn’t you knock and come in? How long you been sitting out here?"

"Not long, a few hours. I've been enjoying the scenery. It's quite an impressive view."

"Hours?"

"The plane got in around six. It took an hour to walk out here."

Stunned, Ray shook his head in disbelief. "You walked all the way from town? You're kidding."

"I fear living in the city has softened me up a bit. I need to get back into training. I should've made much better time for the distance."

Ray grinned, thinking of how much Renny reminded him of Ben sometimes, always thinking he could do better no matter how freakishly good he was. "You're crazy, Ren, a real head case. You know that, right?" Before his friend said anything, Ray stepped forward and wrapped the man in a bear hug. He smelled of sweat and the city, that little bit of smog and diesel that reminded Ray of Chicago all over again. Renny returned his embrace, patting Ray on the back, his face buried in the crook of Ray's neck. "It's so good to see you, Renny."

Words choked as his friend pulled back and fought down his tears. "It's good to see you, too, Ray, though you've lost so much weight, I hardly recognized you."

Ray glanced down at himself, dismissing Renny's worry. Sure, he'd dropped a few pounds, who wouldn't when the man he loved got shot and nearly died, but it wasn't that bad. "Come on inside. I'll make some coffee or tea or something."

"Thank you kindly. That would be lovely." Renny picked up his single pack and followed Ray inside. As Ray put some water on the little electric stove top to boil, he watched as Renny scanned the place. "This is a beautiful cabin, Ray. I know Constable Fraser told me about it, but nothing quite compares to actually seeing it. The renovations appear to have gone quite nicely."

"Yeah, it's good. I like the can the best."

"The can?"

"Yeah, you know, the john, the toilet, the restroom."

"Ah, of course. Indoor plumbing is a wonderful addition to be sure. Having lived in my uncle's cabin for a short while with no modern facilities, I can understand your excitement."

"When'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Live in your uncle's cabin?"

"When I was a youngster actually. It's rather a long story, one worth telling, though at some later juncture perhaps. For now, I'm more curious about your hand. How did you injure yourself?"

"I cut it last night. Just a few stitches, nothing serious."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine." Ray turned, his arms crossed, his head finally clearing enough to figure out that all wasn't great in the state of Kansas. "So, why are you here and not in Chicago?"

Renny sat down at the table, his handsome face long and his eyes rounded. "You know, Ray, I've never considered myself overly naïve. I've always liked to think of myself a man of the world."

Ray bit back the impulse to ask, "What world?" Instead, he pushed for more information. "What happened? Peter show up?"

"Peter? Yes, Peter certainly happened, but my visit isn't about Peter, well, not entirely. I have to think, make some decisions about my life, and I couldn’t do that in Chicago, not under the circumstances. I found myself completely discombobulated by recent events. I thought a sojourn here might allow me to get some clarity about what I should do, to consider my options, as it were."

Ray sat down across from his friend, suddenly worried. He'd never seen Renny like this, so torn up and what Ben would call fraught. "Come on, Ren, spill. What happened?"

"You warned me. I should've listened. I've got no one to blame but myself for this fiasco."

"Warned you? What'd I say?"

"About the Inspector. I never dreamed –"

Ray's face heated with the realization of what Renny was really saying. "Oh my god, don't tell me she actually did it. Did she make a pass at you?"

"As it happens, several overtures of a sexual nature were made, yes. I was just too dense to appreciate that her so-called friendship was nothing more than a ploy to seduce me. It was a complete miscommunication on my part to say the least." Renny closed his eyes, his arms wrapping around himself.

"What did she do, exactly?"

"I don't want to talk about that. It wouldn't be appropriate. However, I thought it best for both the Inspector and myself that I leave for the time being."

"Does that mean you're AWOL or whatever they call it when a Mountie takes off?"

"No, I took official leave. Of course, if she wanted to be truly hateful, she could deny it and put me on report. However, I followed all the procedures with the exception of giving 24 hours notice. I put the papers on her desk before I left forthwith."

"Forthwith?"

"Immediately. I couldn't stay, Ray. We were both completely mortified."

"Mortified, huh?"

"It was all quite unsettling. I thought she understood about my orientation, but apparently not."

Ray didn't even want to imagine what the woman did to get such an extreme reaction. "Well, you can stay here for as long as you need to, you know that, right?"

"Thank you, Ray. I thought a few days, perhaps, and then I'll find a place where I can meditate and contemplate the direction I wish my life to take."

"You thinking about asking for a transfer?"

"I honestly don't know what I want. I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

Ray got up to check the water and get the cups down for his coffee and Renny's tea. "Ben will be happy to see you. He's been worried about you since, you know, you broke up with Peter."

Renny's expression sobered even more. Turnbull had always been the sunshine boy, the guy with the quick smile and kidlike nature. Now he was just so fucking sad, it hurt to look at him. Renny leaned in and asked, "How is he, Ray, really?"

"Ben?"

"Yes. I've talked to him on the phone and he's sounded so debilitated, not like himself at all."

"Well, he is weak. I mean, he's better, but he's still got work to do. That's why he's in rehab." Ray turned away from his friend, his eyes stinging, fighting off the tears. He missed his old life with Ben, before the shooting, before all the injuries and pain for both of them. It was tough talking about it with a friend, someone who knew them from before.

A hand settled on his shoulder, Renny's voice in his ear. "It's all right, Ray. Fraser's a very strong man, a remarkable man, the best man I've ever known. He'll be back to himself in record time, you'll see."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

The strength of Renny's conviction hammered home the notion that he was right. Nobody was ever as strong as Benton Fraser, never would be.

"Thanks."

Renny steered him to the table. "Sit. Let me finish this."

"You're the guest."

"Then let me be useful. I actually prefer being useful to sitting still."

Ray relaxed a little as Renny busied himself making the tea and coffee. He served the drinks along with some toast and jam Ray didn’t even know they had before he sat down across from Ray. "I saw Peter after he returned. He looked rather worn."

"Yeah, he was a busy guy while he was here."

"Is that your colorful way of trying to avoid telling me that he was with other men?"

"Look, I know it's tough when the ex is dating, especially when the ex starts dating before he's an ex, but you knew that about him already, right?"

"Yes, I did. He promised me he'd change and I was gullible enough to believe him."

"If it's worth anything, I think he meant it when he said it."

Renny's face brightened slightly. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, it's just he's got issues."

"Don't we all?"

Ray lifted his cup of coffee like a toast. "You've got that right."

Renny nodded and touched the rim of his teacup to Ray's mug. "Truer words, my dear friend. Truer words."

"Hey, Ben, I've got a surprise."

Ben looked up from reading the newspaper and stopped smiling when he saw Ray. "Your hand, what happened?"

Ray held up his bandaged left hand and dismissed Ben's concern. "This? It's nothing. Forget about it. Just a few stitches." Before Ben could protest and ask more questions about his injury, Ray motioned toward the door. "Look who I found."

Ben saw Renny in the door and his eyes widened in surprise. "Turnbull? Is that you?"

"Hello, sir. It's so good to see you."

Wearing a wide grin, Ben put his paper down and got up, coming around the table quickly to greet his friend. His left arm still in a sling, he used his right arm to pull Renny into a hug. "I think we can do without the sir from now on, Renny. It's Ben, if you please."

Renny turned threes shades darker, but was obviously pleased as punch. "You're looking quite fit, sir…that is, Ben. I'm just so glad to see you up and around. Ray's told me you're making great strides in your recovery and I can see he was accurate in his appraisal."

"Thank you. I am doing much better than anyone anticipated, though it could never be too fast for my liking." They separated and Ben studied his friend closely for clues before he asked, "I'm very glad to see you, but why are you here? Has something dire happened?"

Ray didn't give Renny a chance to answer. Instead, he thumbed at the door. "Look, I'm going to give you guys some time alone to talk and catch up."

"You don't have to go, Ray."

"I know that, Ren, but I need a cup of coffee anyway. You want anything, either of you?"

"No, I'm fine, Ray. Renny?"

"Thank you, but no."

"Good. I'll be back in a little bit. Take your time, gossip about old times, do whatever Mounties do when they need to catch up, okay?"

Ben grinned and shook his head in amusement. "We don't gossip, Ray. We're Mounties."

Ray laughed, knowing full well how much cops loved to tell stories, especially about other cops or crazyass suspects. Red suit or street clothes, the uniform didn't much matter. Cops loved gossip almost as much as their coffee and a good collar. "Yeah, right, and cops would rather do paperwork than work the streets. "Gotcha. Later."

"Later, Ray." Renny called out and Ray heard Ben ask their friend once more about what happened to bring Renny to Yellowknife.

Ray headed down the hall and took the stairs down to the cafeteria. As he walked in, he saw Dr. Egan sitting alone, going over some charts. He turned to walk away, but didn't leave fast enough. He heard his name called out. "Ray?"

Turning, Ray bit the bullet and walked over to the table. "Hi, Doc. You live here or what?"

"Either here or at the hospital it would seem. I should probably pay rent."

Ray sat down at the table before he asked, "So, when's Ben coming home? He's doing a lot better. He doesn't even wheeze anymore when we walk."

"His lungs are healing, yes, and he's doing remarkably well with his injury. I was just going over the reports from his physiotherapist. He's regained nearly 70% of his normal function in his shoulder."

Ray visualized that number in his head, tried to imagine what that meant to Ben. "That’s better than half of what it was, right?"

"Yes, however, he still has considerable pain, Ray. Lifting his arm, any sudden movement or pressure, and there's going to be pain and/or cramping. However, his hand and finger dexterity is nearly normal, so any extensive nerve damage was minimal. It's the shoulder and the surrounding muscles that will take time to completely heal."

Swallowing hard, Ray hated hearing the word pain, thinking about Ben suffering every time he wanted to move his arm. "He's still on meds for the pain?"

"I've reduced the dosage at his insistence. He doesn't want to be dependent."

"But if he's in pain, he should take the pills."

Egan closed his file and leaned forward, his voice low. "He told me his concerns. Based on his history, I tend to agree that his fear of becoming reliant overshadows a slightly longer course in physiotherapy."

"So, he's thinking, no pain, no gain, right?"

"Something like that. It's his choice, Ray. He doesn’t want to become addicted again."

"That won't happen."

"He's been through a lot. The temptation to ease both his physical and emotional pain could be overwhelming. Bottom line, it's his decision and I have to support that."

Ray sat back, chewing on his thumb for a little bit, both admiring and cursing Ben for being so damn stubborn. "All or nothing, that's how it is with him."

"That's how it is with most addicts."

"Yeah, well, I don't see anything wrong with taking something to help take the edge off. He takes it too far sometimes." Before Egan responded, Ray asked again, "So, when can he come home?"

"If things go well the next couple of days, I'd say Monday."

Ray sat up straighter, thrilled with the answer. "That's only a few of days from now."

"I know."

"That's great."

"I know."

"Have you told him yet?"

"I did. I would've thought he'd tell you himself."

Ray shrugged. "Well, I didn't really give him a chance. We've got a friend in from Chicago. They're up in his room talking."

"Same friend as before?"

"No, different friend. This is the guy the other friend dumped. Long story."

"Sounds like it."

"He's a Mountie, too."

"Your friend?"

"Yeah. You know it's weird, Doc."

"What is?"

"Until a little over a year ago, I'd never even met a Mountie. Now it seems like my whole life is wrapped up in Mounties. Mounties here and there and everywhere you look, you know? How the hell did that happen?"

Egan smiled and shook his head. "I don't know, Ray, but I should think there were worse things."

"You've got that right." Happy with the news of Ben's release date, Ray stood up. "Well, thanks. I'm going to grab some coffee and head back upstairs."

Egan held up a hand to stall him. "Wait, don't go just yet. I need to talk to you."

"I thought we just talked."

"We did, about Ben. Now we need to talk about you."

Ray frowned, reading Egan's serious features and not liking the vibe he was getting. "What about me?"

"Your blood tests came back. Have a seat now or come to my office, but we need to discuss what comes next."

Sitting back down, Ray crossed his arms around his chest. "Next? What next?"

"You're anemic, Ray. It's not borderline anymore. We need to do some more tests and find out why that is."

"Well, I lost a quart of blood before you took the test. Let me rest up and you can take more again later."

"The cut wouldn't have caused these results, Ray. Something's not right and we need to find out what that is before it gets worse. I'd like you to come to my office early tomorrow morning for more blood tests and another, more thorough exam."

"You just took blood and I don't need another exam."

"I know you believe that, but these will be more specific tests, tests to rule out different conditions that might lead to anemia. I'll need to ask you more questions, too, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that here."

Ray closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly too tired to fight. "Tomorrow morning, huh?"

"Yes. 9 o'clock."

He opened his eyes and sat a little straighter. "I couldn't just start taking those vitamins you gave me?"

"You could, but I still need to see you. Don't eat or drink anything after midnight, either. I might need to do a procedure."

The word made Ray's skin crawl. He'd heard it too many times when he'd been in the hospital after the attack. It usually meant something painful or embarrassing, something he'd rather just forget about or avoid. "Procedure? What kind of procedure?"

"We might not need to do anything, Ray. I'm just saying that we might."

"But you're thinking something specific, like you've got an idea, right?"

"Perhaps. Come see me first thing in the morning and I'll give you more details of what I suspect. I'd rather not discuss all that here. However, it's imperative that I find out the nature of the problem before it gets worse."

Chewing on his lower lip, Ray relented. "Okay, okay, but don't tell Ben about this, not yet."

"You shouldn't keep secrets, Ray. You wouldn't want him to keep things from you, would you?"

"No, but he's a worry wart, so let's just wait until we see what's what before we mention it, okay?"

"Okay, but I think you're being foolish."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

When he returned to the room, Renny was gone and Ben stared out the window, his face all serious and thoughtful. Ray asked, "Where's Turnbull?"

"He said he wanted to give us some time for privacy so he's downstairs with Diefenbaker. In actual fact, I'm sure he felt rather embarrassed by his emotional outbursts."

"Yeah, he's a weeper."

"Indeed."

Renny always cried at the drop of a hat, any little thing could set him off. Now he actually had reason to bawl his eyes out, so he probably needed some time to pull himself together and put on his game face. Ray could certainly relate to that. He felt a little shaky himself after talking to the doctor. Taking a deep breath to clear his head, he focused his attention back on his partner.

Ben turned around, his lips pursed tightly before he shrugged and sat down in the chair by the bed. Ray frowned and stepped closer. "What? What's wrong?"

"I fear I misjudged the Inspector."

Ray sat across from him on the hospital bed. "Oh, I get it. He told you she put the moves on, huh?"

"How could she could be so inappropriate or so cruel?"

"You've always had a soft spot."

Suddenly angry, Ben snapped, "Are you saying I let my feelings for her cloud my judgment?"

"Feelings?"

"Well, she was my commanding officer, Ray. We served together through some difficult times."

"Like that time you two kissed on top of the runaway train? Nothin' inappropriate there."

Ben shook his head and reached over to pat Ray's knee. "There was never anything romantic between the Inspector and myself, Ray. You know that."

"But not because she didn't want there to be."

"Possibly. However, whatever romantic whims she had towards me got squashed quite thoroughly when you came along."

"Not right away. Even when she knew about us, she was pissed, Ben. Being all helpful later when you needed the transfer doesn't change the fact that she had her eye on you for a long time."

"Perhaps, but that's history, Ray. Right now my concern is Renny. He's quite disturbed about what happened."

"What did happen?"

Ben cracked his neck sideways and avoided Ray's gaze. "If he didn't tell you the details, I can't divulge the confidence."

"I don’t really need the details. I just want to know what he's going to do about it. Is he going to file harassment charges or is he going to let her get away with it?"

Ben didn't even pretend that the discussion hadn't taken place. Instead, he paused. "I don't believe he's decided that yet. However, the situation is a bit more serious than that, Ray."

Swallowing hard, Ray bit back the images of what might have happened between his friend and the Ice Queen. It'd be like a starved tiger tearing into a tethered goat. Renny didn't stand a chance in hell against a woman like that. He took a deep breath before he asked, "More serious than filing charges? How serious are we talking?"

"He's considering resigning the force."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not. He feels quite conflicted. Apparently, he feels his judgment is impaired because of his break up with Peter and because of this incident with the Inspector. I worry that he might be right."

"You can't be serious. He's the victim in the whole deal. Besides, Renny's a great Mountie."

"He is, but he's also quite fragile at the moment. He certainly can't return to Chicago, regardless of what he decides to do."

Ray got up and paced a few times before standing by the window. He crossed his arms and looked outside, still confused sometimes by the wide open view so unlike Chicago. He had an idea, but he didn't know if Ben would go for it. "He could move here, work for Hathaway. He'd be a good fit with the people around here."

Ben didn't answer right away. Ray turned his head and watched as Ben processed the idea. After a few moments, Ben nodded. "I agree. I'm sure a transfer could be arranged if Renny were interested."

"And if he's not, then we just have to convince the big lug. He's a fish out of water in Chicago, always has been. This place is strange enough that he'd fit right in, no weirdness too strange for the likes of Yellowknife." Ray sat back down on the bed. "I don't think it'd be that hard. Today when we were walking around and I was introducing him, he seemed to really like everybody and everybody liked him."

"He's a very personable fellow."

"Yeah, he is, too good for his own good sometimes."

"That doesn't make sense, Ray."

"Yeah, it does. You know it does. He's too good for the modern age, too gullible. He's like a big kid. He buys whatever people are selling. I'm surprised he lasted a week in Chicago. Here, we could look out for him, make sure nobody takes him for a ride like Peter did."

Ben's face darkened. "One finds predators in every environment, Ray, even in Canada."

Ray knew Ben referred to Bullweather, to all the bad times he'd had before, but he wasn't going to let that slide. "Sure, you've got bad guys even here. I know that. But this is different. Now we've got each other to watch our backs. We can watch out for Renny, too. Friends look out for friends, Ben."

"He might resent it if he thought we were playing nursemaids. I mean, he is a grown man after all, albeit naïve for his age."

"Then he just won't have to know about it."

"He's more astute than he lets on sometimes."

"I know." Ray hesitated. "I think it'll be good to have him here. He can stay with us until he finds a place. We can talk to Hathaway, get the transfer fixed up. It'll be good, a real deal for everybody. No more Ice Queen, no more Peter, just friends."

"What if he should chose to leave the RMCP?"

"Then there are other jobs around town, things he can do. He needs a home, Ben. I don't know his whole deal, but I get a feeling he needs that, somebody to call family. I know what that's like. I mean, yeah, I had a family, but not a family family, not the kind of family I needed. Mum tried, but Dad didn't approve of anything I did or wanted to do. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him, you know? My family now is different, something better. It's you and all the friends we have. They're good people. Renny should have that chance, too."

Ben stood up, drawing Ray into his arms. "I agree." He kissed Ray softly and then pulled back. "He's downstairs with Diefenbaker. We should go talk to him, offer him our help."

"Sure we can do that, but in little bit. I've got some other stuff to tell you before we do that."

"What is it?"

"First off, I'm really glad you're coming home Monday."

Ben smiled and this time even his eyes twinkled. "Yes, I'm pleased about that myself."

"You should be. Doc Egan says you're well on your way to 100 percent, A-okay."

"Not quite 100 percent yet, but I'm making progress to be sure."

"So, that's great news, right?"

"Indeed it is."

Ray motioned to the chair. "Now, the bad news."

Reluctantly, Ben sat down. "What is it, Ray?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, okay. It doesn't really affect us, but Hathaway thought you should know about it and not hear it on the news or something."

"Know about what?"

"Bullweather's brother is being a real dick. He's having some big statue built in honor of the bigger dick's life. It's going up in Ottawa."

Ben paled slightly, keeping his eyes on Ray, not really reacting the way Ray expected. Finally, he spoke quietly. "He is his brother, Ray. He wants to remember him fondly. There's nothing overtly wrong in that."

"The guy got off on hurting people, Ben, causing pain. He was a big perv bully. What's fond about that?"

"People see what they want to see when they love a person. If Bryson Bullweather wants to erect a memorial for his brother, I have no problem with that."

"You think those other cadets he fucked over are going to feel the same way?"

"I can't control their reactions, Ray. I can barely control my own." Ben tugged at his ear, avoiding Ray's gaze. "What do you want me to say, that I hate it, that it makes me angry that any memorial masks the truth of what Joshua was, of what he did to me and so many others?"

Ray's voice softened as he leaned over and touched Ben's good shoulder gently. "Yeah, that's what I want you to say, buddy, the truth."

"Then I've said it. Now, if you don't mind, would you please tell me the truth about what happened to your hand?"

Ray pulled away and stood up. "I cut it while I was sleepwalking. It's not bad, just a few stitches."

Brow wrinkled, Ben stood up and stepped beside Ray, taking the bandaged hand in his own. "This disturbs me. You hurt yourself while you weren't in control of your faculties. That's worrisome."

"Yeah, I know. But on the bright side, Renny's here for a few days, so he can baby sit if I decide to do something stupid until you get home. I'm thinking once you're tucked up next to me, I'll stop trying to take a stroll while I'm conked out."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do." Their faces were just inches apart and Ray moved in, his lips whisper close to Ben's. "I miss you."

"And I you."

"I want you home, the sooner the better." Ray kissed him gently, sweetly, the warmth of Ben's mouth like a cushion against all pain and worry.

Ben returned the kiss with a little more pressure before he pulled away. "Soon, Ray, soon."

Ray threw up his arms and whooped, "I win! I'm the champion! Go, me!"

Renny grinned a big fat grin and then looked at Ray with deep admiration. "You're very good at this game, Ray. I'm surprised."

Setting up the chess pieces again, not really mad, Ray complained, "What? You think I'm too dumb to play chess, right? I'm just some dumb Polack who can't tie his own shoes?"

"On the contrary, Ray, that's not what I meant at all. No, I just never thought of you as a man with a patient nature."

"Chess ain't about patience, my friend. It's about strategy, about figuring out the moves, making the right ones. It's all about thinking ahead and reading the other guy."

"You're very good at it. Where did you learn to play?"

"Around." Ray cracked his neck sideways, didn't want to talk about his old man and how they'd played on Sunday afternoons after church when his mum wouldn't let them work on the cars. She had this rule about no working on the Sabbath, like working on cars was really work, but it was the one time she'd put her foot down and his dad obeyed. Of course, threatening to call in the priest for backup didn't hurt her stand. "How about you? Where'd you learn?"

"At school, but I was never very good at it."

"You're not so bad, just a little rusty maybe, that's all. You'll be kicking my ass in no time."

Renny shook his head and stood up, stretching and then stepping over to take his mug to the sink. "I doubt that, Ray."

"How about another game?"

"You've already beaten me three games, Ray."

"We'll make it best out of seven, just like the Stanley Cup. Come on, you can't quit now. Just one more game. I'll give you a couple of moves free if you want."

"I'm sorry, but I'm actually very tired."

Ray glanced at the clock and saw that it was after 11:30. His friend has flown in from Chicago, walked miles before dawn, and been up all day making the rounds around town. "Wow, where'd the time go? You're probably dead on your feet."

"It's been a rather trying few days, yes."

Ray stood up and raked the pieces into his game box and put the board away. "You take the bed, I'll take the couch."

"No, Ray. I'm not taking your bed. The floor is fine."

Turning, Ray shook his head, thinking there was no way in hell any guest of his was sleeping on the floor. "Forget about it."

"I like the floor, Ray, honestly. A blanket and a pillow and I'll be fine. I assure you I often sleep on the floor even when there's a cot or bed available." Renny dropped his head and his voice choked. "Peter used to tease me about that little idiosyncrasy. He said I was a glutton for punishment."

"Jerk."

"In some ways, yes, in other ways he could be very sweet and thoughtful."

"Don't go soft on the guy, Ren. He cheated on you."

"Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean I don’t still have deep feelings for him."

Flashing on the months right after Stella left him, Ray nodded, giving Renny a pat on the back. "Been there, done that. It gets easier."

"I know. At least we didn't have children together. That's a blessing, I suppose."

Ray studied him a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious or not. When he saw that he was, he couldn't quite believe it. "You guys were talking about that, having a family?"

Renny met his gaze, his eyes bloodshot from crying most of the day. "Does that surprise you that I'd want what other people have, a child to raise?"

"I guess not."

"But it does."

"Yeah, yeah, well maybe a little. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Didn't you ever want children?"

Ray hesitated, but then confided in his friend. "I did when I was with Stella, yeah."

"And now with Ben?"

"It's different now."

"Just because you're men doesn't mean you can't raise a child, Ray. You were wonderful with Jeremy today and I can tell he admires you greatly. You'd be an excellent father as would Ben."

"Maybe, maybe not, but it’s not really in the cards these days, so I try not to think about it."

It was Renny's turn to put his arm around Ray's shoulders and give him a quick squeeze. "It's probably the best for now. You and Ben have your plate rather full as they say."

"That's a fact."

Ray pulled away and scratched his head, suddenly uncomfortable with the whole conversation about kids and full plates. "Look, why don't I get you a sleeping bag and some stuff for a bed?"

"That would be lovely. Thank you."

"One thing though. I have a favor to ask."

"Anything."

"If I should get up and wander around in the night, don't let me do anything stupid."

"Wander around in the night?"

"Yeah, yeah, like as in walk in my sleep and stuff."

Renny's mouth rounded in surprise. "You're a somnambulist?"

"Does everybody know that word except me?"

Ignoring the question, Renny asked, "Is that how you cut your hand, while you were sleepwalking?"

Ray sat down at the table, suddenly very tired. "I guess, I think so, I'm not sure."

Renny spoke quietly as he took the chair across from Ray. "But evidence would suggest that that's what happened, correct?"

"Right."

"That must be rather unsettling."

"It is, but I've done it before, the whole sleepwalking thing. I just never hurt myself, not seriously unless you count a bruised toe once or twice. This is new. I just want you to keep me from doing something stupid like going out to hunt for bears or something."

"I doubt you'd be hunting for bears, Ray. They'd more likely be hunting for you."

"Yeah, probably, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, and I'll do my best."

"Thanks. Now, I guess I should get to bed."

Before he could get up and leave the room, Renny said, "Ray, I used to sleepwalk."

Cocking his head sideways, Ray studied his friend, surprised by the confession. "Yeah? When you were a kid?"

"Just so, yes. I was nine or ten when it started."

The words gave Ray goosebumps. "Me, too. Weird."

"I don't remember much about it except feeling rather anxious at the notion of me walking around and having no recollection of it."

"So, like what would you do when you walked around?"

"Apparently, many of the same things I did when I was awake. I'd get up and sing my favorite country/western songs or play with my toys. Sometimes I'd tidy and organize my room."

That made Ray smile, the thought of Turnbull being a neat freak even as a kid in his sleep. "Organize your room, huh?"

"It's always a good time to organize, Ray. The point is, it's usually not a dangerous phenomenon. For me, it went away after I changed classes at my school."

"Changed classes? What's that got to do with your sleepwalking?"

"Well, as I understand it, episodes are sometimes triggered by stress. At the time I was having a particularly difficult relationship with a classmate, Charles Witherspoon. He was quite the bully, always one for aggravation and scorn. I hadn’t told anyone about his taunts, but after several altercations and reports from other classmates, they separated us by putting him in another class. He was still in the same school, but we had different schedules and therefore little interaction after that. The sleepwalking stopped. I never made the connection until a little later on when my mother mentioned that I talked in my sleep during that time as well." Renny's voice tightened slightly as he continued. "She thought it quite amusing that I was trying to confront the boy in my sleep, but didn't have the courage to do it while awake."

Ray suddenly didn't really like Renny's mum much, but he didn't come right out and say that. "She teased you about it?"

"Oh, I assure you it was good-natured, or at least it was in her mind."

"But not so good-natured to you, huh?"

"No, not to me. For me, it was difficult. I was always far too sensitive, even as a child. I let things get to me, as it were, and would worry that I'd hurt other people's feelings."

"But they hurt yours all the time and you'd just smile and take it, right?"

"I saw no reason to take umbrage at insults, Ray. Such things say more about the one who's doing the insulting than the person who's being insulted."

Smart guy, Renny, but again, Ray didn't say that out loud. "But this sleepwalking stopped and didn't happen again?"

"Yes, it did, but I still remember feeling disconcerted by it. So, to answer your question, I will, indeed, be vigilant and make sure you don't harm yourself should an episode occur while you're sleeping."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Ray, sleepwalking often occurs because of a deep-rooted psychological component. If you don't mind my saying so, perhaps you should talk about these things with a professional."

"I'm talking to a friend instead which is a lot better." Ray went to the closet and got out his sleeping bag and threw it at Renny. "Here, sack out. I'll get you a pillow. You need to go to the can before I get in there?"

"No, I'm fine for now."

"Good. Night then."

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for doing this, and for being my friend."

"No problem."

Ray watched Renny spread out the bedroll while Dief sat on the edge of the rug, keeping his eyes on their guest. It made for a cozy scene. If nothing else, it meant he had a babysitter for the sleepwalking and Renny could let Dief out if he needed it.

Going into the can, Ray shut the door. He took a couple of pain pills, washing them down with just plain water, wishing he had a beer, knowing that his beer days would be over once Ben got back. Ray sat down for a moment on the closed toilet, his mind all twitchy and his stomach aching. He wondered what the fuck the doctor had in store for him in the morning, praying that whatever it was, Egan would finally find out what the hell was wrong with him.

Ray woke to the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. Eyes squeezed shut, he concentrated on why it smelled so familiar and then opened his eyes in a hurry. "No way. Pancakes?"

He sat up, pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt and walked in the kitchen to find Renny cooking breakfast. Wearing a chef's apron, he looked right at home. Ray didn't know what was more disturbing, the apron or the right at home part. "What are you doing?"

"Good morning, Ray. I hope you slept well."

"You tell me."

Renny motioned for him to sit down and brought a fresh cup of coffee to the table. "You slept fitfully, but you didn't sleepwalk."

"Fitfully?"

"You talked a bit, that's all."

"What'd I say?"

Renny turned away, back to the wood stove, which he had fired up. He flipped a pancake while he spoke quietly. "You were actually crying more than talking, Ray."

Cheeks heated and Ray squirmed a little. "Sorry about that."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Would you like one pancake to start or two?"

Remembering Egan's warning about no food or drink, Ray shook his head. "I can't, sorry. I’m not a breakfast person." He picked up the bottle of maple syrup off the table. "Where'd you get this stuff anyway? We didn't have any."

"I believe in being prepared."

"You travel with your own maple syrup and an apron? I mean, who does that except for you and Fraser?"

Renny put a pancake on one of the plates and then moved the skillet off the stove as he ignored Ray's teasing. "Ray, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You can't just skip it."

"They smell great, and I'd eat if I could, but I've got a tricky stomach."

Renny sat down and shook his head in disapproval. "You really are too thin, Ray, far below the average for your build. You need to eat. Perhaps some dry toast or some oatmeal would better suit your mood."

His friend looked so earnest and concerned, Ray decided to come clean. "Look, you can't say anything to Ben about this, but I'm seeing a doctor this morning. He told me not to eat or drink anything before the appointment."

Renny paled, his voice suddenly tight. "Are you ill? Is that why you've lost so much weight? Dear Lord, Ray, why didn't you tell me?"

"Calm down. It's nothing, at least nothing serious. He just wants to check my blood again, that's all. He says I'm anemic."

Renny sat back, his face very dark and gloomy, not a good look for the guy. "Anemia can be quite serious, Ray."

"I just figure I need to eat more red meat or something."

"Ray, you should tell Ben. This isn't something you should keep to yourself. You might be seriously ill."

"I'm not seriously ill. I'm just a little puny, that's all. And we don't need to tell Ben anything about it until there's something to tell. If it comes down to something he needs to know, then I'll tell him. Until then, I'll keep it to myself. He's got enough garbage to worry about without me adding to the pile."

"You're wrong about this, Ray."

"That's your opinion. So, promise me you won't tell."

Renny got up and threw the pancake away and then turned around. "Only if you let me go with you."

"You don't need to go."

"I want to go. Diefenbaker and I will wait in the truck during your appointment. Then we'll go have breakfast together afterwards, my treat, as it were. All right?"

"You drive a hard bargain."

Renny's face brightened. "Then it's a deal?"

"Sure, okay." Ray closed his eyes, his head and stomach still griping. "Coffee smells good. Too bad I can't drink it."

"I'll make you some more when we get back."

Reluctantly, Ray got up. "Guess I should grab a quick shower."

"What about the bandage on your hand? You can't get it wet."

"Not a problem. I've got a rubber glove I put over it. I just tape it down around the edge and it stays dry. Now, you want to bank the stove and make sure it's out?"

"Certainly. I'll take Diefenbaker for his morning run as well."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

As Ray walked into the can to take a shower, he had to admit he liked the idea of Turnbull going with him to the doctor's office. In fact, he liked having someone around. It made life a little less lonely, a little less scary to have someone to talk to. Sure, Renny wasn't Ben, but he was a nice guy, a guy who deserved better than the Ice Queen and that asshole, Peter Pulaski.

Sometimes it just didn't pay to be nice, to be a good person. It didn't seem to get a guy far in the world of love, that was for damn sure. He worried about Turnbull on his own, an easy target for any guy who smiled and pretended to be serious. Maybe when things settled down, he'd give his friend a crash course in how to figure out the boneheads from the winners. Then again, he thought back through his own mistakes and figured that maybe he'd leave that part to Fraser.

"So, what are you saying exactly? You think I have an ulcer?"

"The indicators are there, yes. The possibility is very high that you've got a gastric ulcer of some sort."

"Ah." Ray sat dumbfounded on the examining table in Egan's office, not really sure what to think. Who knew Ben's Mountie word would ever come in handy? No wonder Ben used it all the time. It gave a guy an extra second or two to figure things out when nothing made much sense. An ulcer would explain why his stomach hurt so much most of the time, but he sure didn't want to think of himself as an ulcer kind of guy. "You sure?"

"I can't be absolutely certain without one more test, but I do know that you're positive for Helicobacter pylori."

"Helicopter whatsis?"

Egan half smiled at Ray's dismayed expression as he explained, "Helicobacter pylori is the bacteria linked to the production of ulcers in many patients. The good part about that is that we can use antibiotics to treat it quite effectively"

"And, so, I take a few pills and it all goes away?"

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that."

Ray adjusted the thin gown down over his naked thighs and complained, "Figures."

"You have several other symptoms such as chronic nausea, indigestion, heartburn, and vomiting. You've complained about fatigue and you've experienced unintentional weight loss over the last few months when you certainly can't afford to lose any more body mass. However, the most serious problem at the moment is the anemia, which has been developing for several months now. Then today you tell me you've been having acute stomach pain, too, which you neglected to mention earlier. These are classic symptoms of an ulcer, Ray. All I need is to do an endoscopy to confirm it."

Ray kept his voice neutral, pretending like he was cool, like he wasn't scared shitless already with the idea of maybe having holes and helicopters in his stomach. "What's an endowhatever?"

Egan put the medical chart down and sat on the rolling chair beside the exam table. "We put a flexible tube down your throat so we can actually see inside your stomach. I'd be able to visualize any ulcers and the condition of your stomach lining."

Ray's jaw dropped and then he shook his head as the picture got clearer. "No fucking way, doc. No tubes, no way, no how."

"It's really not as bad as it sounds and we sedate you while we do it, Ray. I mean, I could order a GI series instead, but it's not as conclusive and we'd likely still have to do the endoscopy. Also, if there are active erosions, which I believe there are, hence the anemia, I can cauterize them right then and there. It's really the preferred treatment for suspected bleeding."

Ray tapped the side of his head as he tried to remember where he'd heard that word before. He used to know it, but his brain was playing hide and seek with words all of a sudden. "Cauterize, cauterize, what's that mean, cauterize?"

"It means burning. I'd burn the eroded area to stop the bleeding. Ironically, the tissue actually heals much faster that way."

Ray's eyes widened when he realized what the doctor was saying. "You want to burn the inside of my stomach? You've got to be kidding me."

"I know it sounds bad, but you wouldn't feel it."

"You sure about that?"

"I've done this particular procedure many times, Ray. Most of the patients don't even remember what happened once they wake up. I use a very effective drug cocktail to lessen any negative effects such as pain or anxiety."

"So, I'd be asleep through the whole thing?"

"Not exactly, but you'd be medicated so that you'd be relaxed and you wouldn't be in any pain. There might be some discomfort afterwards, a sore throat and a little stomach cramping, but nothing worse than what you've been experiencing."

Ray crossed his arms, resistant to doing anything that sounded like slow torture. "I mean, if you already know what it is, why can't you just give me the pills? I could take those for a few weeks and if I get better, that's that. I don't see the point in jumping into something, not with Ben coming home in a few days."

"I can't prescribe the medication unless I know for sure you've got the ulcers, Ray. You wouldn't just be taking antibiotics. You'd also be taking several other prescriptions to reduce acid and to coat your stomach while it heals. You wouldn't want me to put you on that regimen if that's not the problem."

"What else could it be?"

The guy got suddenly very twitchy. "I'm pretty sure it's an ulcer."

Ray asked again, "But if it's not?"

Egan wouldn't meet his gaze, stood up and checked the chart a few times as he spoke quietly. "Well, there's a very remote chance of cancer, but I don't think that's the case."

The air thinned a little bit and Ray had to take a couple of extra deep breaths. "But it could be cancer, is that what you're saying?"

Egan stopped fiddling with the chart and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Let's take one step at a time, Ray, no jumping the gun as you Americans might say. I'm 99.9 percent sure it's not a malignancy."

Ray swallowed hard, trying like hell to see the bright side. "Well, an ulcer's better than cancer, right?"

"Yes, it is."

"But still, what if I don't have this thing done? Then what?"

"That'd be very foolish."

Ray could handle being a fool better than he could handle having a hose stuck down his throat. "Why can't we wait until after Ben gets home?"

"You should have the test today, Ray. It needs to be done and I've already scheduled it. The condition will only get worse if it's not treated. And if it's not an ulcer, we need to know that, too. I've actually should've insisted on it when I first noticed the anemia."

"I would've said no then, too."

"Ray –"

"Look, I know you mean well, but you don't understand."

"Understand what?"

Ray heaved a deep breath, working hard to keep down the terror as he closed his eyes. "This whole tube down the throat thing, it sounds pretty nasty."

Egan touched his arm and shook his head. "We spray and numb the back of your throat, Ray. You won't gag, and if you're too anxious, I'll give you something for that."

Ray touched the scar across his throat, rubbed it with his fingertip as he flashed on Clooney and being helpless. He remembered his lips drawn tight around a hard rubber ball gag, of having the thing removed, of his rapist forcing his mouth open wider and wider until his jaw wanted to break. Ray shook his head to come back to the present, to force the images out of his head as he choked the words out. "It's not the pain. I can do pain with the best of 'em. It's just feeling helpless and shit. What if I panic?"

"Then I'll sedate you, I promise."

Relieved and scared at the same time, Ray nodded, "Okay, okay, I guess I don't have a lot of choice here. Could you at least do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Once I'm out, could you call Ben and tell him? I mean, he should know, you know, just in case something happens."

"Nothing's going to happen, Ray, but, yes, I'll tell him."

"Okay, then, what do I do first?"

"My nurse will have you sign some papers, then transport you from the office to a specially equipped room over in the hospital. She'll get the IV started. Once you're comfortable, I'll have my assistant help me with the procedure. When it's over, you'll rest for a few hours in recovery before someone drives you home. You said your friend from Chicago was with you?"

"Yeah, Turnbull's outside. I guess someone should tell him about this."

"I'll take care of it. What's he look like?"

"Tall and blonde and hanging out with a deaf wolf."

"Should be pretty easy to spot, eh?"

Ray captured Egan's arm. "You're sure about this, right, that I have to do this?"

Egan patted his shoulder and nodded, "I'm sure. You'll be fine, Ray. Trust me."

"Maybe you should dress up like a Mountie and it'd be easier."

Egan smiled, like he got the joke, but Ray wasn't kidding.

One hundred… ninety-nine… ninety-eight…ninety something or other. In his mind his voice counted backwards, all sleepy and slurred, spinning around and getting all fuzzy. Eyelids too heavy to open kept it dark, kept the world at a distance, the outside world anyway. Inside his head, Ray traveled all over the place, the bank, his father's garage, his first apartment with Stella, meeting Ben for the first time undercover, knowing right then and there his life was going to change forever. Floating through his past, he stopped from time to time to settle down, his stomach hurting, but not hurting, his head whirling, but then slapped into focus by different voices. It reminded him of the 2-7 on a busy day, how all the chatter blended together sometimes, hearing bits and pieces, some of it loud and clear, other conversations just blurred by the din of useless gab that wouldn't make sense even if he heard every word of it. Everything bled and ran together, the beeping and fuzziness of unfamiliar sounds, the sickly stink of sickness, of almost sick, not quite sick, gagging and wanting to be sick to get it over with.

Cold and shaky, Ray lay on his side, his right hand, the only warm spot on his whole body. His eyes refused to open, but when he swallowed, his throat burned. A familiar voice welcomed him back. "Ray, lie still. You're fine. Try not to move yet."

A hand tightened around his and despite the pain, Ray croaked out, "Ben?"

"I'm here."

"How?"

"I insisted."

Eyes still squeezed shut, focusing on the comforting touch of Ben's hand, Ray smiled. "Thanks."

"You should've told me yourself, but we'll talk about that later. Right now, you still need to rest a bit, let the drugs work their way out of your system."

"Sleepy."

"I know."

A kiss branded his cheek and Ray sighed, happy despite feeling like he'd been stomped and clobbered by some pissed off bikers. "Love you."

"I love you, too. Now, sleep a bit more. I'll be here when you wake up."

Ray squeezed Ben's hand tighter. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Ray slipped back under, his body still too heavy and out of whack, but not nearly as cold as it had been.

Waking up took a long time, or it seemed to. Time didn't make a lot of sense while he was trying to get his body to check in. Ray had been drugged before, put under for surgery, but this felt different, kind of like he was still dreaming, but not dreaming at the same time. His eyes didn't want to work or focus on anything and his arms and legs were all rubbery and weighed down. He stretched out and rolled on his back, groaning as his belly complained and cramped up. It felt almost as bad as that time he ate a bad clam at Russo's retirement party, but not quite. At least he wasn't puking in some dirty Chicago alley after drinking a couple of pitchers of free beer. Ray finally opened his eyes and saw Ben sitting in a chair beside him, looking all worried and pale. It hurt to talk, but Ray did it anyway. "Hey."

"Welcome back."

"I feel terrible."

"I don't doubt it."

Ray took deep breaths to clear his head that didn't seem to want to work right. He spoke with his eyes still squeezed shut and rubbed his stomach with his right hand. The soft massage seemed to ease the cramping. "So, am I okay?"

"You'll be fine. The doctor will talk to you about it when you're more cogent."

"Cogent?"

"Lucid, coherent, alert."

"Funny word."

"Ray, why didn't you tell me you were ill?"

"I wasn't ill, just a little off, that's all."

"A little off? Ray, you had an ulcer, four actually. That's more than a little off as you'd call it."

"Four, huh?"

"Yes." Ben leaned in closer as he spoke. "One was quite large. Dr. Egan said that's the one that's been bleeding and likely the cause of your anemia. He said it was on the verge of perforation."

"And that's bad, huh?"

"Good god, Ray." His voice choked and he took a deep breath. "You scare me sometimes."

"I'm sorry." Ray let out a long breath and winced as he held his stomach. He let out a huge belch that tasted puke nasty. "Gross."

"Just relax. That's the gas they used."

"Gas?"

"To inflate your stomach so they could visualize the area. You'll probably belch off and on during the day as it's expelled."

"Better out than in, huh?"

"Precisely."

As his thoughts cleared, Ray stretched a little more to test out his muscles. "So, when do I go home?"

"We'll leave when the doctor says you're able to leave, not a second before. He needs to speak with you about your medications as well."

"That'll be fun."

"And you'll do exactly as he says, Ray, no arguments."

The sharp tone got his attention. Ray turned his head and opened his eyes. "You pissed?"

"I'm not angry."

"You sound angry."

"I'm sorry about that." Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and then steadied himself. "I'm just upset and concerned. I don't mean to be short with you."

"It's okay. I'd probably be pissed off, too."

"I'm not angry, Ray. I'm just… just, well, that is to say, I'm –"

"Pissed?"

"No."

"Mad?"

"No, Ray."

"Not even a little?"

Ben cocked his head sideways, his lips thinned as he confessed, "Well, perhaps a trifle, but I'm not angry with you."

"Nobody else here."

"I'm here."

Ray frowned, wondering if he was still under the influence. "You're mad at you? What'd you do?"

"I got shot."

"Like that was your fault?"

"I haven't been there for you, Ray. You've been making yourself sick because of me."

"Now you're just being stupid. You didn't cause this."

"But I didn't help matters, either. If I'd been with you instead of being so self-absorbed, I would've noticed the symptoms earlier. It might not have come to this."

"I'm going to be okay." Ray reached out and Ben took his hand. "You're coming home Monday. My stomach will heal up. Things are looking better in my book."

Ben squeezed his hand, smiling. "I'm coming home with you today, Ray."

"What? You sure? What about rehab?"

"I can still do the rehab, Ray, but right now I need to be with you."

"Did Dr. Egan say it's okay?"

Ben met his worried gaze and nodded. "We discussed the pros and cons of the situation and decided I'd be better served being with you during this time than in the rehab center. I'll still need to do physiotherapy sessions, of course. That'll be for some time, but I'll be home, Ray. We'll be together."

Ray grinned and didn't care if his belly rumbled or if his throat hurt. "Thank god."

Ray turned in the truck's seat to check out Ben's smile as he saw the outside of renovated cabin for the first time. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Indeed. I think Stevie Garvey is a very talented young man."

"Yeah, the kid knows his way around a log, that's a fact. Must be Canadian or something."

Turnbull turned off the engine, frowning. "I don't understand, Ray. What does Mr. Garvey being Canadian have to do with his ability to renovate?"

Ray saw Ben's amused expression as he got it, got what he was saying about the kid. It felt so good, so right to have him back and to be messing with Renny's head a little bit. "It's a joke, Renny. Canadians, lots of wood, get it?"

Renny stared at him a moment, processing the words but then shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Ray. Despite my sojourn to the States, a huge part of the American sensibility is lost on me, I'm afraid."

Still a little doped up, Ray got out of the truck, using his hand to steady himself as the ground tilted a little to the left. He waved off Turnbull's support as his friend rushed around to help him. "No, I'm cool. Just a little shaky."

Ben got out right behind him as Dief leaped out of the back of the truck. "You should go inside and lie down, Ray. Dr. Egan told you to rest."

"Don't worry, I plan to, but not before the tour. Come on. I'll show you around." Ray stopped on the porch first and pointed with pride at the new furniture. "Here we have handmade oak chairs, a gift from Chris and Eddie."

"They're very nice, Ray." Ben ran a hand over the top edge of the chair. "If I'm not mistaken, aren't these the same ones they had on their front deck?"

"Same maker, different furniture. Chris says Eddie knows the guy and they've got a shed full of the stuff. I figure if we want more later, we can get a good deal."

"Why would we need more? There are only two of us."

"Well, I figure we might entertain from time to time. It might be nice to have a few extra so people don't have to sit on their thumbs or use the wolf for a stool. Might be a nice party game, but I doubt people or the wolf would go for it."

"Quite right, Ray. We might be well served to be prepared." He walked over to check the connection point where the original logs left off and the new ones started. Ben tested the wood of the porch with his foot and gave it his approval. "Very sturdy. It's really amazing he's matched the old with the new timber perfectly."

Renny followed his eye and nodded in agreement. "I certainly can't tell the difference."

Ray motioned for both of them to come inside before they got down on their knees and started tasting the logs or doing something just as gross and Mountie-like. "Come on, you two, cut it out. No licking."

Both men turned in unison to stare at him in surprise. Ben spoke first. "Licking? Why would we be licking, Ray?"

"Who knows with you two? Let's go inside. It's even better in here."

Ray held the door open as Renny and Ben entered the cabin. As he followed, Dief suddenly pushed past him. "Damn wolf. Knock me down next time." Despite his grumpy complaint, Ray smiled. Sure he felt like shit warmed over, what with the drugs still fucking up his system, but Ben was finally home. It made him warm and tingly all over to think about having the man he loved beside him instead of locked away where he couldn't touch him, couldn't really be with him. Things would be better now, back on track, no more maniacs trying to kill them. Sure, they were both busted up pretty good, but from now on, they'd be working all that out together. Together made a huge difference in Ray's book.

Ray closed the door and found Ben checking out the can. "Pretty swell, huh? No more freezing our skinny asses off this winter."

"It's really remarkable, Ray. The resemblance to your water closet in Chicago is quite uncanny. I'm surprised he was able to find fixtures that matched so well."

Ray crossed his arms and smiled wider. "It's a can, Ben, not a water closet. You might be in Canada, but nobody says water closet anymore."

Renny butted in. "I beg to differ, Ray. I use the term quite often as do many of my associates."

"Because you hang out with a bunch of weirdos, that's why."

Renny didn't take offence, but smiled that goofy smile he had sometimes, like it was a cool to be strange. "Point taken."

Ben studied all the updates in the bedroom, nodding in admiration, and then came back out into the living room area. "This is all quite wonderful, Ray. Not only do we have more space now, but you've worked hard as well to make it quite comfortable."

"You like it then?"

"I love it, and I love you."

Ray grinned, but then glanced over at Renny who'd sniffled and turned twenty shades of red. The guy was such a big softie. "Could you give us a few minutes here, Ren?"

"Certainly, Ray." Renny slapped his thigh and called to the wolf. "Come along, Diefenbaker. I feel the need to stretch my legs a bit. How about you?"

Reluctantly, Dief followed him out as Renny started talking a blue streak about the wonders of cheese and asking if Diefenbaker liked cheese as much as he did. If he hadn't been in such a hurry to be alone with Ben, Ray might have laughed, but he didn't laugh or even care about the cheese thing. All he wanted was some alone time with Ben.

Ray stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Ben's waist. Careful of Ben's sling, Ray leaned in, his face close to Ben's as he whispered, "I love you, too. I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Ray. It's been nearly unbearable without you."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, for the most part I tried –"

"I didn't mean tell me about it tell me about it. I mean, I know what you mean." Ray closed his eyes, still smiling, drinking in the warmth of his partner's body. "Come to bed with me."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Before Ben moved, Ray held him tighter and then kissed him, his tongue hungry. When he pulled back, Ray saw Ben's eyes brimming with tears. Not quite sure what the deal was, Ray asked, "You okay?"

"You have no idea how much I've longed to be with you, Ray, just to hold you like this."

"I thought I was holding you."

"So you are. Still, it's being with you that's filled my dreams, that's motivated me to leave that terrible place as quickly as possible."

Ray captured the back of Ben's neck and then rested his forehead against Ben's. "You're alive and on the mend. You're home. We're together. It's all good."

After a few seconds, Ben pulled back and then took Ray's hand with his good right hand. He led him through the doorway into the bedroom. They both sat down on the edge of the bed, Ray leaning over and helping Ben take off his boots first, then he shucked his own boots. Despite the procedure with the tube, Ray's stomach really didn't hurt that much, not any worse than it had before anyway, and Ray was grateful for that. Ben touched his face, his voice soft and low. "We'll sleep for now."

"Oh, yeah, save the good stuff for later. Right now I wouldn't be worth much anyway."

Ben caressed his face with his fingers, his eyes misty again. "You're worth everything to me, Ray, everything."

And Ray believed it, believed for the first time that they had a real chance in hell to make it.

Ray woke up alone. He was chilled and not the least bit happy to find an empty spot beside him. Sitting up slowly, he was still a little dizzy, but a lot more clear-headed than before. He held his stomach and then fingered his throat, realizing that neither hurt quite as much as they had before the nap. Voices came from the other room, so Ray got up to join the party. As he walked in, he saw Ben and Renny whispering and a truckload of food on the table. Scratching his head, he asked through a yawn, "What's going on?"

Renny beamed at his appearance in the doorway. "I'm glad you're awake, Ray. How are you feeling?"

"Better." He stepped to the table, checking out the spread. There were plates full of sandwiches, a few cakes, a chocolate cream pie, some cookies, a big pot of stew, even a basket of fruit. "What's the deal? Why all the food?"

Ben answered, "It would seem that a lot of people were concerned that we might not be capable of feeding ourselves while you recovered."

Turnbull added, "Actually, it's a tradition in many Canadian areas to bring food to the home while people are convalescing. It would strongly suggest that you've been accepted as part of the community here."

Ben nodded with a smile, his face less lined or as serious as it had been when they first got back to the cabin. "True enough."

"Cool." Ray removed the plastic wrap from a plate of sugar cookies, picking one up and then taking a bite. His throat complained, but it still tasted pretty good. He hadn't eaten all day and, ulcer or not, he was damn hungry. "How'd people know?"

Ben tugged at his ear as he explained, "Well, I had to cancel your physiotherapy session with Ms. Murphy. Then I had to tell Mimi so that she could tell Jeremy why you and he wouldn't be working together today. I imagine she told Cal who proceeded to tell Chris and Eddie who then told –"

Ray held up a hand to stall any more name dropping. "I get it. It's the Canadian version of a Frannie gossip mill. Tell the right people, the whole town knows."

"That would seem to be the case, yes." Ben tilted his head, keeping his eyes on Ray, but without being too lame about it. "Mimi also sent some chicken soup. It's still warm. Renny and I were just debating as to whether we should wake you so you could eat."

Grabbing another cookie, Ray shook his head. "I'm good. Might pig out on some pie though."

Ben stepped closer, his face a little too serious to mean anything good. "You'll do no such thing until you eat some real food, Ray. A small bowl of soup and perhaps a sandwich. Then if your stomach doesn’t protest, you can pig out, as you call it, on dessert."

"Bossy much?"

"It's not my intention to be domineering, Ray, but you really need to eat something more nutritional than empty calories. Not to mention you might want to eat small amounts until you judge how the medication interacts with what you ingest. You know how the antibiotics sometimes have negative effects on your digestive system."

Remembering all too well the nausea and the diarrhea caused by several of the drugs he took after he'd been attacked by Clooney, Ray lost his appetite. "Actually, I'm not that hungry. How about just coffee or something to drink?"

Exasperated, Ben shook his head. "Dr. Egan said no coffee or anything else with caffeine for at least two weeks. There's milk, or apple juice, or I can fix some herbal tea instead."

Ray grimaced at the thought of choking down anything herbal or twig-like and eased himself into the chair at the table. He vaguely remembered Egan's stupid lecture of the all the things he couldn't have or do for the next two weeks. He'd sounded more like his mother than his doctor. It was bad enough he couldn't sneak a little booze with Ben back early, but no coffee was the last straw. That just wasn't right, that was just insult added to injury and it made him all shaky just to think about it too hard. Still, with Ben there for guard duty, he'd have to tow the line or hear about it until his ears bled. It just wasn't worth the hassle. The trade off of having Ben home made it all doable. "I was kind of hoping you'd forget about that part."

"Well, I didn't, and neither did you."

Renny jumped in with his two cents. "There are some delicious traditional herbal blends, Ray. There's a nice barley roast that mimics the taste of coffee quite nicely and there's always decaf, although I'd recommend a good portion of milk to lessen the acidity."

"Thanks, but no thanks on the herby stuff, at least for now. Maybe if I get desperate or something."

Before Renny could try to persuade him again, there was a knock at the door. Ben opened it to find Stevie Garvey waiting on the other side, holding what looked like a huge pot roast. The kid lifted the pan in greeting and nodded, "Hey. I heard Ray was a little under the weather, so I figured you might not be in the mood to cook."

"We appreciate that, Stevie. Please come inside."

As soon as Stevie saw the layout of provisions on the table, he grinned wider. "Guess I wasn't the only one with the same idea, eh?"

"Still, it was very kind of you. Thank you." Ben took the pan from Stevie and put it on the stove. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to commend you on your renovation. Your pictures didn't do your work justice."

Garvey beamed at the praise, obviously full of himself and grateful that Ben had noticed his work. "Thanks. I was hoping you'd liked it. You have any questions on any of the new equipment I installed?"

"Everything seems to be in order and working quite nicely, thank you."

"Well, that's good." Stevie took his eyes off Ben long enough to finally notice Renny over by the sink. He sputtered and stalled, just staring, his face suddenly redder. "And you are?"

Ben shook his head like he was just waking up from a nap and fussed at himself. "Good lord, where are my manners? This is our friend Constable Renfield Turnbull. We worked together in Chicago."

Stevie never missed a beat, never took his wide eyes off Renny. "Constable? You're a Mountie, too, eh?"

Renny smiled his most welcoming smile, his welcome to Canada smile, and shook Stevie's hand. "Yes, indeed. It was my greatest pleasure to work with Constable Fraser at the Canadian Consulate in Chicago. It was there I also met Ray. We became quite good friends during that period."

"Cool."

The two men shook for the longest time, not releasing the other's hand, gazing into one another's eyes, sort of like in one of those bad romance movies where the two people meet and fall in love at first sight. Frannie would've called it making goo-goo eyes. Ray just thought they both looked really goofy, but kind of sweet. Ben and Ray exchanged quick glances and Ben stepped up to the plate first. "Stevie, why don't you show Renny the windmill's generator? He was expressing an interest earlier about the technical nature of its design. It'll give you two a chance to become better acquainted."

Stevie snapped out of his daze. "Sure. That's a great idea. Come on, Renny. I'll take you on a little tour."

"Marvelous! I've been interested in alternative energy sources for sometime now. In fact, I was doing some reading on the subject and there are several studies about the overall efficiency of wind verses solar generated electrical…" Renny's voice faded as the two went out the door and headed to go check out the windmill.

Ray snorted and laughed. "Did you see that?"

"I most certainly did."

"Oh, yeah? What'd you see?"

"What would appear to be the start of a promising romance." Ben sat down across from Ray, still grinning. "What about you? What did you see?"

"Yep, pretty much the same thing. Stevie might get his Mountie after all. Go figure."

Ben frowned and asked, "What do you mean, 'might get his Mountie after all', Ray?"

"I mean, he's had the hots for you since he was a kid, you know when you got him out of that jam." When Ben stared at him like he was talking a foreign language, Ray asked, "You had to know that, right, that he had a thing for you?"

Out came the ear tug and the little tongue across the lower lip. Ben cleared his throat. "I suspected, but I never really knew for sure. It wouldn't have been appropriate to discuss or even contemplate such a situation. He was just a boy, Ray."

"He's no boy now."

"True enough."

"Neither is Renny." Amusement gone, Ray sighed and settled back in his chair. "Think they have a chance in hell?"

"We might be jumping to conclusions here, Ray. After all, they just met. All we have is conjecture on our part as to their initial attraction. It might not mean a thing. They might simply want to be friends or share some amiable male companionship."

"If that's all it is, I'll eat my badge." As soon as he said it, Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, the reality of his situation as heavy as a solid boot kick to the head. "That is, if I had a badge to eat."

Ben was no slacker. He knew what was going on in his screwed up little brain. "Do you miss it, Ray, being a detective?"

"Not really, some, okay, a lot, but there's nothing I can do about it, so why get my shorts all in a twist?"

"It's a difficult adjustment."

"Yeah, well, I'll get over it. I figure between what I get in retirement and disability and the money I get with the photography, I'll do all right. I'll be able to pull my own weight."

Ben lifted the arm in the sling slightly. "And I'll certainly do my best to pull my weight as well, Ray. It just might take some time."

"So what if it takes time? We've got time."

"It might be months before I'm on active duty."

Ray leaned in, his arms on the table as he spoke quietly. "You going to be okay with that, with being on a desk for a while?"

"I'll have to be."

"You don't have to be anything, Ben. If you're not ready, you don't have to go back until you can work the street. We've got enough to get by even if you never go back. You can do whatever you want."

"What I want is to be able to do my job, Ray. I'm a police officer. It's what I've always been and what I want to continue to be."

"Then that's what you'll be."

"It's not quite that simple."

"Sure it is. I mean, sure you've got a hard row to hoe. You've got therapy and all that, but you'll do it and be back in the saddle before you know it. Watch. You'll see."

Eyes dark, Ben met his gaze and nodded. "With your help, yes, I think I might."

"Good, now that that's settled, maybe we should eat something while the lovebirds get better acquainted."

"Lovebirds, Ray? Isn't that being a little presumptuous?"

Ray got up and peeked out the window, watching as Renny and Stevie stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the base of the windmill. He saw Renny reach out to touch something near the generator's base just as Stevie took and guided Renny's hand to just the right spot on the motor, holding that hand a lot longer than he needed to. Still grinning, Ray shook his head in amusement. "Hey, if it's one thing I know, it's how love can clobber a guy when he least expects it and it looks like there's a TKO any time now in Renny's near future."

Ben moved in beside him and checked out the view. "Ah, I see."

"Give you any ideas?"

Pursing his lips, Ben whispered in his ear. "Perhaps. What did you have in mind, Ray?"

"How about sending those two on a date and you and me celebrating?"

"Celebrating?"

"Your homecoming."

Ben's kiss answered the question nicer than Ray ever expected.

Part Two

The End of October

Ray leaned in closer, aiming his camera at the litter of five new pups, clicking off several quick pictures before standing up. All excited and grinning like a fool, Jeremy pointed at one of the white ones that looked the most like Dief. "She's mine. I'm naming her Amelia."

"Let me guess, after Amelia Earhart, right?"

"Yep."

"You don't think that's a mouthful for a pup?"

"And Diefenbaker's not?"

Ray laughed at the snappy comeback. The kid was nothing if not sharp. "Good point."

"When she's old enough, I can take her home. I've already got her bed ready, a leash, a collar, and a whole bunch of chew toys. Puppies need lots of things to chew on so they don't eat your shoes."

Ray chuckled to himself. He really liked this kid who couldn't wait for anything, the kid who reminded him of himself more and more lately. "You realize you can't take her home for another couple of months, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. She's got to stay with her mom until she's weaned and can be on her own. Cal and Mom tell me that all the time, like I'm some kind of idiot."

"They don't think you're an idiot. You're just impatient."

"I know, I know, but it's weird."

"What weird?"

"I can be patient about a lot of things, but not this. Never had a dog of my very own before. I've wanted one for a long time, but Mom always said no until now. I get to take her home right at Christmas. She's my big present this year." Jeremy looked down at his puppy and sighed. "I just want a dog so bad, you know?"

"Yeah, I know, kid."

"Mom said I'm old enough to handle the responsibility now."

"I think she's right."

"She said I did a good job taking care of Dief, so that helped convince her I was finally ready. Showed her I could be trusted to take care of a dog without her having to step in."

"Don't let Dief hear you call him a dog. He might pin your ears back." Jeremy laughed with a quick nod of agreement while Ray checked out the rest of Dief's pups, the one remaining white male and the others all grey and marked like Lucy, their husky mom. "You know if Cal's got homes for the rest of them yet?"

"Chris and Eddie want one." Jeremy pointed at the greyest furball who was sleeping curled up next to its mother's belly. "That's the one Eddie wants, but Chris wants a female and the only other girl is that little one there."

"The runt?"

"Yeah, she was the last one born. Cal was afraid she wouldn't make it, but she's nursing pretty good now, so she should be okay. Renny and Stevie want her."

"You don't think Chris will get first dibs?"

Jeremy laughed and sat down on the low stool by the crate. "You've met those guys, right? Chris is a such pushover, man. Chris might fuss about it and act like he's the boss, but whatever Eddie wants, that's what Eddie gets."

To cover up his amusement, Ray snapped off a few more pictures, some of the pups, some of Jeremy. The kid wasn't even fazed by the attention anymore, used to Ray taking his picture just about any time they were together. "What do you think about that?"

"Hey, it's no skin off my nose. Whatever works, eh?"

"You're pretty tolerant for a kid."

Jeremy studied him for a moment, his face suddenly serious as he considered what Ray was suggesting. "What's to tolerate, Ray? I don’t see Chris and Eddie any different from you and Ben or my sister and her new boyfriend. As long as people like each other and treat each other okay, what's the problem?"

"No problem. No problem. It's just some people don't think that way."

"I know. Some people are jerks. Some people don't like me because I look like an Indian. How stupid is that?"

Ray frowned and sat down on the other stool facing Jeremy. "Yeah? Somebody at school say something?"

"Nothing to my face, but I hear things and I see how some people treat me differently because of what I am."

The picture got suddenly clearer. "This bad mood have anything to do with the girl you liked? What was her name again?"

"Alisa." Jeremy looked down at his hands and shrugged. "She likes Terry Johnson, the blond kid who just moved in from White Horse. He's all big city and cool clothes. She doesn't even talk to me anymore since he showed up."

"That's rough."

Jeremy hesitated and then said, "I thought about bleaching my hair. What do you think? You think it would help?"

Oh, man, the boy had it bad. Ray remembered the first time he'd bleached his dark blond hair super blond and brassy when he was fifteen. Stella went crazy and gave him more sugar than he could handle, his mum nearly fainted, and his dad slapped him so hard on the back of the head that he saw stars for a week. "You really don't want to do that."

"Why not? You do it."

Damn living in a small town anyway. Nobody could keep a secret worth shit. Ray ran a hand through his hair, thinking he probably needed a touch up and haircut pretty soon now that he thought about it. "Yeah, I bleach it, but I'm pretty pale and blond to begin with. I just sort of tweak it, you know? The thing is, Jeremy, you've got really great hair. I know people who'd kill for hair like yours."

"But it makes me looks too Indian."

"You are Indian, or at least part of you is. Nothin' wrong with being Indian. It's a heritage to be proud of."

"I know. I just want her to like me and she likes cute blond guys."

"Changing your hair color won't change who you really are inside. If this girl really likes you, she'll like you for who you are, not for what you look like."

The boy shrugged as he reluctantly accepted the truth of the words. Then, he sighed heavily and added, "And besides, my mom would kill me."

"Well, yeah, there's that, too."

They sat without talking for a little while, Jeremy looking forlorn for just a few minutes until he turned his attention back to the crying puppies. He reached over the wire of the crate and picked up Amelia under the watchful eye of Lucy. He held her up next to his chest, teasing her mouth with his finger. "She's going to look just like Diefenbaker."

"Hope she doesn't have his appetite. She'll eat you out of house and home."

"My mom runs a restaurant. I figure that won't be a problem."

"Smart kid."

"Sometimes. Sometimes I'm pretty dumb."

"You'll find someone else, Jeremy, somebody who'll like you for you, and, who knows, maybe she'll be a big plane freak like you."

As Jeremy rubbed his puppy's fat belly, he laughed. "Nobody's as big a plane freak as me."

"No kiddin'."

Ray walked into Cal's shop, hugging himself and stomping his booted feet a few times before pulling his hat off. Since it'd turned cold, Ben insisted he wear a hat whenever he went out. He'd settled for a wool knit cap, one of those tightly stitched things the longshoremen wore back home. It messed up his hair something awful, but it kept his ears warm, something he'd come to appreciate more and more these days. He still hated the idea that anybody could freeze his skinny ass off in October, but every time he stepped outside, he got a rude reminder that he wasn't in Chicago anymore. "Hey, Cal."

Cal sat at the counter with a book and looked up and over the top edge of his reading glasses. "Your nose is all red."

"And you'll probably be bald in twenty years so what's your point?"

Chuckling, Cal closed the book and took off his glasses. "Afternoon to you, too."

Ray made a show of looking around the empty shop. "No customers again?"

"Welcome to the start of the slow season in Yellowknife."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to get that. Guess you don't need me to work again today, huh?"

"I've got some digital orders, but I'll do those later. No new film's come in, so you're free. Guess I should've called, but I figured you'd be in with something to develop for yourself anyway."

"Yeah, yeah, I took a few rolls just this morning. Man, those are some cute pups, huh? Lucy did good."

"Dief helped."

Ray's smile got bigger, not ashamed to take credit for owning part of the proud poppa. "Yeah, he's sort of a stud, smug bastard."

"He's got a right to be smug. He might be a hybrid, but he's a good breeder and Fraser says he's a great lead dog, too. If you know about sled dogs, you know that's a big deal. A lot of dogs can race, but only a few can be a good team leader like that."

"Figures. He thinks he's the boss of the world most of the time anyway."

"I've got Kevin Tate looking to take a couple if I'm interested in selling."

"Tate's the big name local musher, right?"

"Yeah. He wants some new blood for his team. Lucy's got champion bloodlines, you know."

Ray couldn't help but grin at his friend's boast. Cal was usually low key and modest, but when it came to his kids, his wife, or his dogs, Ray couldn't shut him up, not that he wanted to. The guy had one hell of a great family. He'd earned some serious bragging rights. "So you've told me."

"Her sire was a champion team leader named Mukluk, won the Iditarod a few years back."

"I know."

"Guess I've told that story before, huh?"

"A few times. So, you going to sell some of the pups to this Tate guy?"

Cal sat back, considering the question a few extra beats before answering. "I haven't decided yet. A real sled dog's not a pet. It can be a hard life."

"Well, it's like being any athlete, right? Lots of training, lots of sacrifice."

Studying Ray a moment, Cal nodded. "I hadn't thought about it like that, but you're right. It's just like people. You want to do something tough like race across ice fields, it's going to take a lot of hardship. But I guess the upside is that you get to be a winner sometimes."

"Well, yeah, if you don't run off a cliff or get eaten by a polar bear."

Cal lifted an eyebrow and grinned. "Leave it to you to look on the bright side."

"Ben says the same thing."

Cal sobered. "How is Fraser?"

Shrugging, Ray slipped the strap over his head and set the camera case on the counter. "Okay, I guess. He's still tied to a desk for another few days."

"Then what?"

"He can go back to active duty after he qualifies."

"Qualifies?"

"Shooting. He's got to qualify again since he's been on restricted duty for so long."

"Will that be a problem?"

Ray snorted in amusement. "Ben can shoot a fly off the side of a barn in the next city with one arm tied behind his back, so, no, no problem."

"Good shot, huh?"

"Oh, yeah." The whole time he talked about Ben, Ray fiddled with his camera case, avoiding eye contact.

"So, how do you feel about that, about him going back on active duty?"

"Fine."

"Ray –"

Meeting his friend's gaze, Ray reluctantly confessed. "I don't know if he's ready or not."

"Maybe that's for him to decide."

Ray tried hard not to, but he snapped anyway, the words out before he could help himself. "I know that. Don't you think I know that? He's a fucking Mountie for god's sake. He lives and breathes Mountie shit. But it's different now."

"Different how?"

"Because I won't be there. In Chicago we were partners, a duet. He'd set 'em up and I'd knocked 'em down." The words came out faster and more furious, but Ray couldn't stop talking. "Now, he's going to be out there on his own, all alone, no back up. I mean, he's got a radio, but believe me, it's not the same thing as having a flesh and blood partner right there when the shit starts flying. Something goes down, stuff happens so fast you don't even know what's what sometimes. Knowing Ben, he'll be right in the thick of it, too, the big freak. He's fearless, like he's wearing a cape or he's bulletproof or something, which he's not. Makes me crazy sometimes."

"You tell him how you feel?"

"It's not about me. It's about Fraser. He wants this, so I have to be there for him. He'd be there for me, is there for me."

"Still, it's got to be hard. I think it's always harder on the folk who have to stay home than the police officer who goes on duty."

Ray studied Cal for a moment and then cocked his head sideways. "You calling me a cop's wife?"

"Cop's partner would be more politically correct."

"Politically correct and me, not a good mix."

"Look, I don't want to stick my nose in, but –"

"Never stopped you before."

"Well, I was just going to ask, how did your ex-wife feel about you being a police officer? I mean, I would imagine she was probably a little fearful, too, especially with you working in Chicago. The crime rate's a little higher there than here."

"Just a little."

"So, you didn't answer the question. How'd she feel?"

Ray hesitated, remembering all the times Stella had asked, no begged, him to resign, to find something else to do. How many times had he cradled her after making love, lying in the dark, her tears wetting his shoulder as she cried herself to sleep? It hadn't all been about the better class thing with her, either. Sure she would've liked him to do something highbrow like be a big business man, a doctor, or lawyer, but it was more about the fear than the money. He thought he'd understood that back then, but for the first time, he realized he really didn’t have a clue what she must have gone through every time he went out the door, especially when he'd gone undercover. He'd had no idea what she must have suffered when he came back all banged up, nearly dead or worse yet, wanting to be dead. Rubbing his face with both hands, he sighed, wishing like hell he could change the subject. But Cal had asked, and he had to be honest. "She hated me being a cop, always did."

"So, why'd you keep doing it?"

"Because I had to. It's what I did, what I wanted to do, but it wasn't ever easy, not for me and not for Stella. Guess, I'm finally getting that, feeling what she must have felt all those times."

"You going to be able to handle Fraser going back out on the streets again, maybe getting hurt?"

"I'll handle what I have to. Now, can we talk about something else?"

"Sure. Sorry. You want some coffee?"

Now that his ulcer was cleared up and he was on some kind of medicine to keep the acid down, Ray could have his favorite drink again, thank god. "Sure. Sounds good."

In the back, Cal poured the brew into Ray's shop coffee mug and then fixed himself some tea. As Ray added sugar and creamer, Cal said, "I got a call from Jimmy this morning."

"Yeah?"

"He wants to come to town tomorrow. He was excited and said he's got something to show you. Said he wants you to see it in person."

Ray sat down and taste-tested his coffee. Cal might be Canadian, but he did a pretty good job of making the stuff even though he didn't drink it. "He's my agent. How come he didn't call me?"

"Your phone was turned off again."

"Oh, right. Sorry about that. The battery keeps running low. I need to recharge it."

"You should really get a new one."

"A new what, battery?"

"A new phone. The one you've got is really out-dated and clunky, not to mention it doesn't work half the time."

"Yeah, well, it still works the other half."

"But it's still as big as something out of the dark ages."

"It's only a few years old."

"You need something stream-lined and more modern."

"Your son still selling cell phones on the side?"

Grinning sheepishly, Cal knew he was busted. "It was worth a try. Seriously, he's got some good plans, very affordable and for every budget."

"Good sales pitch there, Dad."

"I try. He wants to save up to go to Europe this summer. The kid wants to travel before he starts college, so I figure, I should help out when I can."

"Okay, yeah, I get that. I'll think about it. Look, what'd Jimmy say about why he's coming? Any clues?"

"Just that he's got good news."

"But he didn't say what kind of good news?"

"I figure it's probably about that last batch of pictures you sent in. That whole lake life series you did was pretty impressive. Maybe he's got a calendar deal or something."

"Maybe I should call him and ask, save him the trip."

"He'll be here tomorrow afternoon. Ask him then. I told him you usually come in around four. Is that okay?"

"Sure. I can be here. Now that I don't have PT every day, it makes it easier to have a life."

With the mention of his physical therapy, Cal said, "You're walking a hell of a lot better than you were before, Ray."

"I know, hardly a limp."

"Barely noticeable."

"Kate helped a lot."

"She's a good therapist."

"Good person, too. Nice as she is, I'm glad I don't have to see her but once a week now."

Cal sipped his tea before he asked the next question. "What about Fraser? How's his physiotherapy going?"

Ray put his coffee down. "He's doing okay, three times a week, an hour a session. He has to work on his own, too, though."

"Yeah?"

"He does all the exercises and he works out at the rehab pool a lot." In his head, he saw Ben swimming, working his left arm with strokes that hurt so much that he sometimes had to have help out of the water. Ray tried to be there for him, giving him a hand, wrapping him in the towel, wishing like hell he could take that pain inside himself and save Ben the agony. His mouth dried as he thought of the huge scar that laced the back of Ben's shoulder, how the sunken and damaged tissue would always be there, the smooth, beautiful skin always marred by the exit wound from that fucking bullet months ago. "He's still has to work on full range of motion and getting the strength back, but it's getting there."

"Well, if force of will has anything to do with it, I don't doubt it."

"True enough."

Cal lifted his tea in a toast. "To Fraser and hanging in there."

Ray raised his own mug and nodded. "I'll drink to that."


	3. Chapter 3

Bygones 4  
Recovery  
by Grey  
Grey853@aol.com

 

Ray got home to find Ben's Jeep already parked in the driveway. When he walked in, the place smelled of wood smoke and stew. Dief greeted him, sniffing around his pants, and then jumping up to rest his paws on Ray's shoulders. The wolf licked and slobbered all over his face before Ray could stop him. "I'm home and this is the first kiss I get?"

Ben sat at the table writing in his journal as he scolded the wolf. "Get down, Diefenbaker. Let him at least take his coat off before you accost the poor man."

Pushing the dog off, Ray stepped over and wrapped his arms around Ben's neck, leaning in. Ben smelled fresh and soapy, like he'd just showered. He'd shaved, too, his cheeks all smooth and still kind of pink. It was their secret signal for when Ben was in the mood for a good time. Ray was down with that, down with being ready for an early to bed kind of evening. "I was kind of hoping you'd accost me instead."

"I don't believe consensual greeting would qualify as an assault."

Ray sealed the deal, kissing Ben thoroughly before pulling back and taking off his coat. Ben cocked his head. "You smell like puppies, Ray."

Snorting, Ray shook his head. "One little guy pissed all over me. I tried to get it off, but I guess it didn't do much good."

"It's not an unpleasant smell, Ray, but it is rather noticeable."

"To you maybe."

Dief nosed his leg and woofed. "And to Diefenbaker. He smells them on you which explains his obnoxious behavior when you arrived."

Ray ruffled Dief's coat and grinned. "You smell your babies? Is that what you smell, buddy?" Dief woofed again and sat down, staring at him almost like he expected a story. "You did good, boy. You've got some beautiful pups." Ray reached over and took the pictures out of his camera bag and held one down to Dief. "See, here they are. You picked a good mate, too. Lucy's a great mum."

"May I see?"

Ray handed Ben the pictures and watched as he sorted through them. "They look quite healthy." He stopped and then looked up at Ray. "Jeremy certainly is photogenic, too."

"Yeah, he's a great looking kid even though he doesn't think so."

"Well, you know how it is, Ray. He's at an age when his self-esteem is always vulnerable to the impressions of others regardless of how much the adults in his life support him."

"I know. It's just tough. He even told me today he was thinking of bleaching his hair."

Ben gave a scandalized look and shook his head. "Good god, Mimi would have a conniption."

"For sure."

"I suppose he asked your advice because he knows you bleach yours?"

"You calling me a bad influence?"

"Not at all. However, he's obviously going through a phase where he feels the need to garner approval to bolster his own self image."

Ray paused and then asked, "You think that's why I bleached mine to start with, why I still do it?"

Ben met his gaze and shook his head. "I would imagine you do it, because you like the result. Besides, it looks quite fetching on you, Ray. I doubt Jeremy would have the same result considering his much darker complexion."

"That's what I told him. And thanks."

"For what?"

"For not thinking I do it to be something I'm not."

"Well, you're already blond, Ray. You just enhance that feature."

"Yeah, that's what I told him." Ray fingered one of his spikes. "I think I need to do some more enhancing pretty soon, too. Plus a haircut wouldn't hurt. It doesn't want to stand up when it gets this long. Having hat hair doesn't help, either."

"It does look a tad more aggressive when it's short."

Grinning, Ray teased. "Admit it. You like when it's aggressive."

"I like your hair however you fix it, Ray, but I do confess to a certain fondness for that particular style."

"I knew it. You love me for my hair."

Ben got suddenly serious. "You know that's not true, Ray."

The humor left the room and Ray frowned. "I was just kidding."

"Please don't." Ben got up and stepped to the stove. He took the lid off the stew pot and stirred, his face tight and his mouth a thin line.

It might have been cold outside, but it was downright freezing inside the cabin all of a sudden. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Ben, I was just teasing. I know you love me."

"I do love you, Ray, more than I can ever say." He tugged at his ear, and then turned, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed. "I've just had a rather trying day. I don't mean to take my bad humor out on you."

"Bad day? What happened?"

"Well, as you know, since I'm on restricted duty, I sometimes work at the front desk."

"So what happened, some freak come in the front door and give you a hard time?"

"Actually, one of the local reporters came by to get my reaction to the memorial statue for Joshua."

"Fuck."

"Apparently, he wants to write a companion piece for the local paper, give the background and detail my connection to the man of the hour. He wanted to dredge up all the elements of the shooting as well." Ben closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I confess that I reacted badly."

Ray got up and stood next to Ben, a hand on his arm. "What'd you do, pop him?"

Ben looked up and stared at Ray. "I'd never hit anyone for doing his job, Ray."

"So, what'd you do that was so bad?"

"I honestly don't remember."

"What do you mean you don't remember?"

"Well, I remember the beginning, how I lambasted him and his profession, his heritage, his whole family tree for that matter, but for the most part the whole tirade is a blank. I do remember Inspector Hathaway arriving and ordering the man to leave."

"So, what's so awful about that? You gave the guy what for. I mean, he had a lot of balls coming into the station like that, asking you that shit. He had to know he'd be pushing some serious buttons. He'd been warned about it already."

"I was on duty, Ray. I should've had more self-control."

"Hey, the guy walked out on his own steam, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you've got better control than me. I'd have kicked his sorry ass from here to Sunday."

"It's just…"

"Just what?"

"He was so blatantly insensitive and intrusive."

"He was a reporter. That's what they do. It's like written in their contracts or something to be assholes. So, what'd Hathaway say after the guy left?"

Ben did the lip lick thing and then took a deep breath. "He sent me home early."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. He apologized. He said he'd tried very hard to keep the reporters from trying to interview me on the matter, but that they were still going forward with the articles about the memorial and the aftermath of the shooting. It'll be in the paper this weekend, timed to coincide with the dedication in Ottawa."

"Fuckers."

"Language, Ray."

Ray's face heated and his fists balled, but he kept his temper in check for Ben. "Fuck language. Like you haven't been through enough shit. They have to bring it all up again. Why can't they just drop it?"

"I don't know, but it was a very disconcerting encounter."

"I'll bet. That why you were writing in your journal when you came in? You trying to work it all out?"

"Yes. I went to see Dr. Littlejohn. Luckily, he was available for an impromptu session."

"And that helped, seeing the shrink?"

"Yes, somewhat. Still, I can't help feeling a bit shamed by my loss of control. The man was just doing his job."

"Fuck the guilt, Ben. He ambushed you where you worked. That was calculated and deliberate. He knew you couldn’t just take off and tell him to go fuck himself. If anybody should feel guilty, it's that guy, not you."

"Still, I should've exercised more self-control."

"You're only human and control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes you're entitled to lose it."

Ben patted Ray's hand, which was still resting on his arm. He turned and drew Ray into a soft kiss, slow and easy, not rushed at all. When Ben pulled back, he whispered, "I missed you today."

"Yeah, me, too."

Ben fingered the back of Ray's hair, his eyes locked with Ray's. "It's been difficult working without you, Ray."

"Same here. But you have Dief."

Ben nodded and turned back toward the stove. "I’m actually quite lucky that they've allowed Diefenbaker to accompany me to the station. He's apparently endeared himself enough to become the unofficial mascot."

"Go, Dief."

"Would you like some coffee, Ray?"

"Sure, coffee's good."

Ray sat back down at the table, not ready to let the conversation go away completely. "So, what did you talk to the shrink about?"

Ben brought Ray's coffee and his own tea to the table and sat down. He closed his journal and studied Ray an extra beat before he answered. "You don't usually ask me that. We had an agreement."

"I know, I know. What you tell the guy is private, I get that, but I was just wondering if you said anything about us, about how good it's been with us lately."

Ben's expression softened. "It has been good between us, hasn't it?"

"Yeah." Ray thought about the lovemaking from the night before, hard the first time, a lot more gentle and tender the second. He'd missed that over the months of recovery. He's ached for the return of the connection, the deep bond he felt with Ben, something he missed while Ben was in the hospital. But it was much more than the physical, all the touching and licking, and the getting off like nobody's business. No, it was about being held and not pushed to do things he wasn't ready to do. Since his release from the rehab and Ray's treatment for the ulcer, Ben had stopped nagging, stopped hassling him about just about everything. He'd focused more on himself and let Ray do his own thing, praising him and supporting him. It was almost like Ben had finally realized that whatever Ray was going to do about his problems, it was up to him, especially since Ben had his own boxful of personal troubles. But in bed, well, it was like them against the world and they were actually winning for a change. Ray smiled, taking a deep breath, relaxing. "I like how it's been. It's been peaceful, easier than I thought it would be."

"I agree. However, I didn't discuss that with the doctor, though I have mentioned it on previous visits."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Ben leaned in, his elbows on the table. "I have to thank you, Ray."

"For what?"

"For being so supportive through this difficult adjustment."

"That's what partners do."

"I know. However, I would've understood if you'd left."

Ray pushed down his immediate anger and shook his head, realizing that Ben meant well even if he had no clue. "You're an idiot sometimes."

"Excuse me?"

"You have any idea how insulting that is? How it makes me feel that you think it'd be okay for me to leave because you're going through a rough patch? How would you feel if I said that to you, that it's okay for you to take off because I was a mess after what happened with what's his name?"

Frowning, his brow wrinkled, Ben processed the words. "You're right, but only to a certain extent."

"What's that mean?"

"I mean, my thanking you for staying has more to do with me than you."

"Huh?"

"I mean, I've never had anyone like you in my life, Ray. I've never known anyone so loyal, so willing to sacrifice for another person."

"Look in the mirror sometime. You'll see a guy just like that."

"I appreciate that, Ray, but I suppose what I’m trying to say is that it's difficult for me, because of my life experience to actually expect that someone would be willing to do so much for me. I'm still trying to make a paradigm shift, but it's not easy for me."

"Paradigm shift, huh? That shrink talk?"

Ben grinned and then nodded, "It's a phrase that Dr. Littlejohn has used a few times over the last few sessions, yes."

"Well, good for him then. Whatever it takes to get it through your thick skull that I'm here to stay, that's a good thing. I stick like glue, like super glue even. You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried so don't even bother."

"Which I wouldn't."

"Which you'd better not."

Ben put his hands together, almost a clap, but not quite. "Good. That's settled then."

"What's settled?"

"I believe the colloquial expression is 'we're stuck with one another'?"

"Yeah, yeah, but I like we're stuck on each other better."

"So do I."

"Good, now what's for supper? Smells like rabbit."

In a much better mood, Ben got up from the table, pushing up the sleeves of his Henley as he stirred the stew. "You're getting much better with your olfactory acuity, Ray."

"Hey, when I'm hungry, my nose leads the way."

"Indeed. Since I was home earlier than scheduled, Diefenbaker and I went out and procured some fresh rabbit."

"Sounds good. Just don't tell me the details."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I'm also fixing biscuits."

His mouth watering, Ray moved next to the stove and sneaked a peek over Ben's shoulder. "What else is in there that smells so good?"

"Oh, the usual. Some turnips, carrots, onions, and a few snap beans."

Ray had gotten use to the substitution of turnips for potatoes. In fact, he was getting to the point that he liked them even better than the spuds he'd been raised on. "How much longer?"

"About half an hour."

"Time for a shower then."

Ben turned around, his eyes all blue and serious. "You don't need a shower, Ray." He sniffed at Ray's neck and then gave him a quick kiss. "I love the way you smell just as you are."

"Even with puppy pee all over?"

"That's only on your clothes. Your smell is a lot stronger."

"I smell stronger than puppy pee?"

Ben chuckled. "Yes."

Ray's voice softened as he teased, "And you like how I smell, huh?"

"You know I do."

Ray pursed his lips, grabbed Ben's face with both hands and kissed him again. When he pulled back, he whispered, "Get those biscuits done in a hurry and let's get this show started, want to?"

"I do, indeed."

Later, they lay together under the sheets, Ray curled on his side, his head resting on Ben's right shoulder. They'd made love for over an hour after supper, but instead of falling asleep, Ray had wanted to be held and Ben obliged him. It had become a habit actually, one Ray never wanted to break. "This is nice, thanks."

"More than nice, Ray, and the thank you is quite mutual."

Ray kissed Ben's cheek and then closed his eyes. "This is good. This is greatness. How come we never did this before, this whole just lying here and not thinking too hard thing?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps it was because you often fell asleep right after completion."

"Still do sometimes."

"But not always, and it is, after all, rather early."

"Yeah, maybe. Still, I like it. Stella never really liked to do this much. She was like a guy that way, falling asleep right after or getting up and going back to work." Ben's body stiffened, not much, but just enough that Ray felt it. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"No, I'm sorry. I know you don't like comparing how it was with her with how it is with you. That was a dumb thing to say."

Ben sighed and squeezed him a little closer, his voice still a little raw after all the lovemaking. "I appreciate your sensitivity on the matter, Ray, but it’s not really necessary. I want you to be able to say whatever you're feeling. You shouldn’t have to censor yourself on my account."

"Sure I should. I love you. If it bugs you, then I try not to do it. Easy peasy."

"Easy peasy?"

"Yeah, you know, it's a done deal. I'll keep my trap shut about Stella when we're in bed together. Easy peasy."

Ben smiled and ran a lazy hand down Ray's side as he spoke quietly. "I love how you talk, Ray."

"I like how you talk, too. Sometimes it makes my brain hurt, but it's still cool, all the big words and how you explain stuff."

"I don’t mean to make your brain hurt, Ray."

"Hey, it's not your fault my brain's all pinchy sometimes. Besides, it's good for me. They say the minute you stop learning new things, that's when your brain starts to shrink." Ray kissed Ben's naked shoulder and whispered. "I don't want my brain to ever shrink any littler."

"I don't see that ever happening, Ray."

Snuggling in closer, Ray draped his left arm across Ben's chest. "You never know. One day you're learning a new word like germane and the next day your brain rolls over and gives up the ghost."

"Not with me around, it won't."

"I appreciate that."

"You're welcome."

After a few moments of silence, Ray changed the subject, "You scared?"

"About what?"

"You know what. Tomorrow's the big day."

"Ah, the arms qualification."

"Partly, but that's not all and you know it. We both know you'll qualify."

Ben didn't pretend not to know what Ray meant. "I want to be on active duty, Ray. There's nothing to fear about that."

"But you won't have me around to watch your back."

"No, but I'll have Dief. Yellowknife isn't the same as Chicago. I'll be fine."

"It's still got to be a little scary."

Ben shifted and pulled away, lying on his right side so he could face Ray. "I'm not scared, Ray, however, I could understand if you were."

"Me, why should I be scared? I'm not the one going out on the streets with no partner for back up."

"No, but you're the one who has to let me go. That's never easy, especially for someone with control issues like yourself."

"Control issues? Me? I don't got no control issues."

"A double negative, Ray –"

"Okay, okay, shut up about the grammar. I'll admit, I'm a little freaked out, but it's got nothing to do with control. It's about knowing what can happen, what can go wrong."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

Ray couldn't meet his eyes, but he fingered Ben's chest. "Anything could happen or nothing could happen. You just never know. Some drunk might decide he doesn't like Mounties and try to blow your head off or you could just walk around and have a great day. That's the thing, it's like walking across the street. You've done it a million times, no problem, but then one day there's a runaway bus and you're road kill."

Ben leaned over and kissed Ray's forehead before touching his face gently. "I don't plan to be road kill, Ray."

"Nobody plans it, that's the point. It just happens." Ray's voice choked over the words. "I won't be there to stop it." Ben didn't say anything, his hand still caressing Ray's cheek. Opening his eyes, Ray met that intense gaze. "What?"

"Do you want me to quit, Ray?"

"Quit being a Mountie?"

"Yes. Would that make it easier for you if I resigned?"

"Well, yeah, it'd be easier for me, but not for you."

"I'd do it if you asked me."

Ray took a deep breath, his heart heavy but sure. "I'm not asking."

"I know."

"Is that why you offered, knowing I don't want to ask you to give up something that important to you?"

"No, I offered because I'd give it up if that's what you needed."

Ray closed his eyes again and shifted closer, letting Ben pull him into a tight hug. He knew without a doubt that his partner wasn't lying, that he'd give up something so important just for him. Just knowing that was enough, enough to keep him going, an out if he ever really needed it to be. "I don't need that, Ben. I'm not promising I'll never need it, but for now I can handle it. Just don't get killed or hurt again, okay?"

Ben kissed the top of his head as he whispered, "I'll do my best."

"You better or I might have to kill you myself, you got that?"

"Understood."

Sitting at the table the next morning, Ray drank his hot coffee while Ben cooked breakfast on the wood stove. He smelled the fresh biscuits baking and Ben's twig tea brewing. Caribou steaks sizzled in the frying pan and Ray tried not to think too hard about how weird that was. When had caribou steaks replaced bacon as one of the best smells to start the day? Freakish became normal and Ray kind of liked it, but only if he didn't look at it real close.

"You're very quiet this morning."

"Not a morning person."

"True enough. Still, you're even more reticent than usual. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"I'm fine as well. I thought perhaps you might be revisiting your concerns about my arms qualification."

"No, I'm good, really, or as good as I can be. Can't promise not to get a little freaked out later on, but for now I'm okay."

"I'm glad to hear it." Ben poured his tea, flipped one of the steaks, and then sat down across from him at the table. "I got a letter from Buck yesterday."

"Yeah? What's the old coot up to?"

"He's finished rebuilding my father's cabin. He wrote to tell me he was closing it up for winter and going to live with his daughter, Julie, and his new son-in-law, Tom. He's a grandfather now, you know."

Ray frowned, not remember hearing anything about that. "Since when?"

"Since a few months ago. Julie named the boy after him. It would seem Buck's quite taken with the idea of having a grandson."

"Poor kid got stuck with Buck for a handle?"

"Well, there are worse names with which to be stuck, as it were."

Ray snorted. "Stanley Kowalski for example?"

"Stanley's a perfectly good name, Ray."

"For a creep in a play maybe, not for a skinny kid with glasses who has to live with it for real." Before Ben said anything, Ray added, "Bet Benton wasn't an easy moniker, either, huh?"

"It had its moments."

"I'll bet. Gotta say I like Ben a lot better."

A slight smile thinned his lips as he got up to watch the meat. "I rather like Ray, too."

"The way you say it so many times, I kind of got that."

Ben's cheeks pinked up, knowing Ray referred to his habit of chanting his name during lovemaking. "It's a beautiful name, Ray. It actually means 'protector', which seems quite apt. I love saying it. I love the man to whom it belongs."

"Mushy much?"

"When it's appropriate, I have no problem with sentimentality. In fact, I've found that I am, on occasion, rather fond of being mushy, as you call it."

Ray had to confess, he'd gotten a little fond of it, too. "I've got no problem with mushy. I'm a tough guy. I can take it. Mush away."

Chuckling, Ben removed the steaks from the skillet to plates and then cracked some eggs for scrambling. It was a lovely sound, hearing Ben laugh for a change. It made Ray's day and it'd hardly started yet. "So, Buck's going to live with his kid, huh, be a real granddad?"

"So it would seem, yes."

"It's weird."

"What is?"

"Buck being a dad much less a grandpa. I mean, I just never saw him as the grandpa type."

"I think he'll make a wonderful grandfather, Ray. In fact, I think he might be a much better grandparent than he was a parent."

"Why do you say that?"

"Like my father, he was more absent than not when it came to raising Julie. She never complained, but we did talk on occasion, and like myself, she seemed to miss a fatherly influence. Now that Buck's retired, he'll have more time to devote to his grandson than he ever did to her. In the process, perhaps he and she will also bond a bit more. Perhaps he'll make amends for past failings."

"You think?"

"Yes, or at least I'm hoping that's the case."

Ray got up and freshened up his coffee as Ben stirred and cooked the eggs. "You ever think about that, having kids and being a granddad someday?"

Ben's hand stilled and he looked up to meet Ray's eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, do you? Do you ever think about that, think about missing out?"

He didn't answer right away, just finished the eggs and put them on the plates with the steaks. "Sit down, Ray. Breakfast is ready."

Ray took it for what it was, a good stall. He sat like Ben said and then he waited while Ben served the biscuits before sitting down, too. Instead of digging in, Ray stared and Ben ignored his own food. After a few moments, Ben finally said, "I have thought about having a child, a great deal, actually."

A knot formed in Ray's stomach, afraid of what he might hear. "Yeah?"

Ben looked up, his face solemn, but not too hard to read. "I'd love to raise a child someday, Ray, if that's what you wanted, but it's not something I'd choose to do alone or anytime soon."

"Well, no, I wouldn't want soon, either. We're not ready or set up for that."

"No, we're not. I just think that if we ever did decide to rear a child, we'd need a lot of time to plan and discuss what we wanted to do. We've both had rather strained relationships with our fathers, and that's colored our idea of what a father should be. Still, if you wouldn't be adverse to the idea, I do think it's something we might open for discussion at some later point."

Stunned didn't quite cover it. It never really occurred to him that Ben had put so much thought into the whole idea of being a dad. Ray had only toyed with the idea, just took it out and played with it from time to time, usually right after he'd spent time with Jeremy, but he'd never really thought he'd have a shot in hell of ever doing it. He swallowed hard, trying not to get too excited. "You mean that? You'd really consider it?"

"At some point, yes."

"That's good. I think I'd like that, too, to discuss it, I mean."

Ben smiled and then picked up his fork, ready to chow down. "I'm glad you were brave enough to broach the subject, Ray."

"How come you never mentioned it before?"

"To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure how I felt, but I have been thinking about it more lately."

"How come?"

"Watching you with Jeremy has been somewhat inspiring."

"Inspiring? Yeah?"

"You're very good with the boy. You seem to know how to talk to him, to relate. I admire that."

"He relates to you, too."

"Yes, he does, but not on the same level." Ben ate some of his steak and eggs and Ray took the hint. He ate his own breakfast, chewing, but not really tasting. Instead, he was imagining what'd it be like to be a dad someday.

After he'd finished his eggs, Ray said, "You know I think we'd make great dads, you and me."

"A duet, perhaps?"

His grin extra wide, Ray nodded. "Yeah, a duet, only we'd both work our skinny asses off to set the kid up and make sure he didn't get knocked down."

"Or she."

"Yeah, or she. A girl, huh? Wow, I never thought about having a little girl, but I like that idea, too. Maybe someday, right, just you and me, Dief and a kid? We'd be a family. That'd be cool."

"Yes, it would be." Ben worked at finishing his meal as he added, "Buck said something else I thought you might find amusing."

"What's that?"

"He said toward the end of finishing up the cabin, he thought he heard my father humming."

"Humming? Really? I thought he was gone for good, gone to that great Mountie woods in the sky."

"Perhaps, but Buck swore he heard him on several occasions."

"And you don't think the old guy's just losing it, just hearing what he wants to hear?"

"Possibly, but I doubt he'd tell me if he thought there were any chance that it was just an aberration of perception."

"Cool. So, what was he humming?"

"O', Canada."

"Figures."

"Well, he's nothing if not patriotic, Ray."

Ray chewed the last bit of his steak, jazzed by the idea of maybe seeing Ben's dad again, ghost or no ghost. "You think he'll show up here?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past him." Ben sipped his tea, his expression suddenly softer and a little sad.

"You miss him, huh?"

Ben put his mug down and stared over at Ray. "He's irritating, insulting, and with utterly no concept of personal boundaries, but –"

"You miss him."

"Immensely."

"Yeah, me, too."

Later in the day, halfway though his physical therapy, his phone rang. Ray frowned. His phone hardly ever rang. He stopped doing the leg lifts and stared at his bag.

Kate asked, "So, you going to get that or just listen to it ring?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."

"Not a problem. I'll get us some more water."

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Ray fumbled for the phone that kept ringing. He punched the button and heard Ben's voice at the other end. "Ray?"

"What's going on?"

"I qualified."

"Congratulations. Was there any doubt?"

"Not really, no, but I thought I should tell you."

"Look, I'm glad. I know you've been chafing at the bit to get away from the desk. Can't say I blame you."

"Inspector Hathaway is letting me start this afternoon, Ray."

Ray sat down on the bench next to the workout mat, his stomach suddenly tighter. "So soon?"

"It's actually been months, Ray."

"I know that, but I figured he might like ease you back in, not just throw you out there all at once."

"I asked if I could go out this afternoon, jump right back into the job as it were."

"If that’s what you want, I guess that's good then."

"I know you're worried, but I really want to do this, Ray. He's even allowing me wear the serge."

"All the better to see you with, my dear."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind." Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he was being stupid and maybe a little jealous to boot. He didn't want to mess this up for Ben. He earned a chance to get back to what he loved, with or without Ray. "I'm really glad, Ben. You'll do fine."

"You really mean that?"

"Sure I do. Look, I'm right in the middle of my session. When will you be home tonight? You still going to have the same work schedule?"

"The shift won't change, no, so I should be home around six as usual."

"Guess I'll see you then."

Ben's voice lowered, like he was whispering into the phone. "I love you, Ray."

"That hard to say?"

"Not at all."

"Then why the whisper? People listening in?"

"So it would seem, yes."

Ray grinned and thought about how red Ben probably was with other cops listening in to him being lovey-dovey. People were people and cops were cops. Give 'em ammunition and they'd razz a guy until he went nuts. Lord knew, he'd done it enough himself back in Chicago. "It's okay. I know you've got an audience. I love you, too. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Until then."

The phone clicked off and Ray put it back in his bag, frowning. Sure, he was glad Ben was no longer on restricted duty, but it still didn't make it an easy shift in gears. He'd been in Yellowknife long enough to know that some of the areas around town were nearly as rough and tough as parts of Chicago. Still, he respected Ben as a cop enough to know he should be able to handle himself. Knowing he had Dief along to walk shotgun helped.

"You okay?"

Startled, Ray looked up to see Kate staring at him with concern. "Yeah, that was Ben. He qualified and starts rounds this afternoon."

"You don't look happy about it."

"I'm happy."

"Liar."

"Fresh much?"

"Look, I can imagine that after everything that's happened, you're not thrilled with him going back out on the streets. There's no harm in admitting that."

"Ben's a good cop. He'll be fine."

"You trust him to know his job, right?"

It took an extra second, but Ray nodded. "Yeah, I do. It's the bad guys I don't trust."

"Still, you can't go around worrying about things you can't do anything about."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Well, you can, but it'll suck all the energy from your brain and leave you dry. You've got to focus on the positive. Ben's doing something he loves, something he really enjoys. If you ask me, you can't get much better than that."

She had a point, and he couldn't fault her for trying to cheer him up. He'd even believe her if he could only turn off all the pictures flashing in his head of Ben down and bleeding, of him wired up and full of tubes after being shot. He swallowed hard and put on his game face, shaking off the negative attitude as best as he could. "You're right. Might as well accept it. From now on, I'm a cop's wife."

Kate laughed, fooled by his grin, duped into thinking that he'd let the worry go. "So, you ready to get back to work?"

"Sure. Pitter patter, let's get at her."

Slowly, they started the leg lifts and the kicks, the whole time Ray completely distracted and wondering what would happen if Ben ever caught him shadowing his every move on the job.

Ray walked into Cal's photo shop and glanced around. He didn't see his friend or any customers, but he heard Cal's voice and another one coming from the workroom. He called out. "Cal?"

"We're in the back, Ray."

Walking behind the counter, Ray entered the workroom to find Cal sitting at the table having coffee with a stranger. Cal's face lit up when he saw Ray. "Hey, it's about time you got here. Jimmy and I have been yakking about old times for about an hour now."

Jimmy Bass, his agent, stood up and extended a hand. "Glad to finally meet face-to-face, Ray."

Ray shook hands and nodded. "Sorry about being late. The session ran over."

"Yeah, Cal told me you take physio for an old leg injury. I hope you're doing okay with that."

"Yeah, I'm fine, or getting there."

Cal interrupted the greeting. "You want coffee? Just made a pot."

"Sure, sounds great."

As Ray and Bass sat down, Ray took in the newcomer. He was short, about 5'5", his coarse, dark hair thinning on the top. He had dark brown eyes, thick lips, and a crooked kind of mouth where the left side drooped down just a little lower than the right. His complexion was olive and smooth, but he had laugh lines around the mouth and eyes that made him look a little younger than his fifty years.

As Cal handed Ray his coffee, Jimmy chimed in, "I just want to say, I'm really excited to be here, Ray. The new stuff you sent me had some of the best nature shots I've seen in years."

"Thanks."

"So, I guess you're wondering why I wanted to come to town, huh?"

Ray put his mug down, his fingers wrapped around it, and leaned in with his shoulders hunched forward. "Well, I was kind of wondering why you couldn't just tell Cal or me over the phone."

"Because I wanted to be here to see your face when I tell you the good news."

"What good news?"

"How would you feel if I told you I've got a book deal lined up?"

Cal's breath hitched in surprise and Ray sat back in his chair, stunned. Ray finally found his voice, not sure if he'd heard right. "A book deal? You serious?"

"Dead serious."

"What kind of book deal?"

"I've got a publisher who saw your last set of pictures, the lake series, and loved it. Then he saw the rest of your portfolio and thinks he might be able to put out a whole series of books, sort of a Western Canadian nature series kind of thing. Of course, that'll depend on how well the first book does, but I'm telling you, Ray, this is big. The guy already gave me a contract and I've got it with me. You sign it and we're good to go ahead. The advance is ten grand."

"Ten grand? You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding? And that's just to start. By the time they print and sell it to every library and school in Canada, it'll make a lot more than that. If we get an American deal, too, it could be a gold mine."

Cal whistled. "Wow, Ray, congratulations. That's incredible."

Ray shook his head, still not convinced Bass wasn't pulling his leg or something. It just didn't sound real that somebody wanted to pay that much for a bunch of pictures. "What's the catch?"

Cal and Bass both frowned at his question and exchanged quick glances. Bass asked, "Catch?"

"Yeah, you know, the catch, the catch, as in what's the real story? What do they really want? They don't want a book of just pictures, right?"

"Well, it won't be just pictures, Ray. There will be text, too, which is something we'll have to discuss later. They want you or someone else to write the narrative that tells the story of the pictures."

Ray rubbed the back of his neck, his stomach all knotted and tight in disappointment. He knew something would queer the deal. No way could he be that lucky. "I'm no writer."

Cal suggested, "But Fraser could write something, or maybe even Eddie Banks. I could even do it if you wanted me, too. I did all the narrative for the last set of tourism brochures I did. I mean, it wouldn't be that much, just a little something to describe what going on in the pictures."

Bass added, "It'll be a minimum of writing, Ray, I promise. The story's in the pictures. I mean, that's the whole point."

Cal reached over and put a hand on Ray's shoulder, squeezing gently. "What's wrong? This is good news, Ray, I promise."

Still not convinced, Ray asked, "But what if they don't even make the ten grand back? Do I have to give the money back?"

Bass shook his head. "Not going to happen, not with this. I've worked thirty years in this business and nobody I've ever gotten an advance for had to give back money. And with this book? No way. I loved the pictures, Ray. You couldn't ask for a better, sweeter setup to showcase your work and make a name for yourself. We need to jump on it. The publisher wants to get you signed up so they can start working on it right away. They're looking for a spring release date and that means we have to hit the ground running. It takes a lot longer to put out a book than most people think."

"So you think this is a good deal then?"

"I think it's a wonderful deal or I wouldn't be here."

Cal cleared his throat, gauging Ray's doubt better than Bass did. "Maybe you need to think about it overnight, maybe talk it over with Fraser first. It is a big step."

Ray shook his head, determined not to drag Ben into his work if he didn't have to. Ben had enough on his plate. "No, Fraser would just say go for it. He thinks everything I do is gold anyway." He looked up and met Cal's gaze. "What do you think? You're the real photographer here, not me."

"I think I’m jealous as hell, that's what. Jimmy and I have worked together for ten years and he never got me a book deal."

Bass grumbled, "I got you more commission work than you could handle, Cal Tyler. I could've gotten you a book deal eventually if you hadn't given up shooting to run a shop in the boonies."

"I know, I know. I'm not complaining, eh?"

"Sounded like it."

Cal chuckled and patted Bass on the back. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm not, not in the least. I just wanted Ray to know that book deals don't come around that often, you know? You've got to grab the opportunity when it happens."

Bass nodded, still obviously perplexed by Ray's hesitation. "Look, if you don't trust me as your agent, maybe you should find someone else to represent you, but I sure as hell hope you don't. It's been a while since I've seen so much talent with a camera. I want other people to get a taste and a book like this is great way to do that."

Ray fisted his hands together on the table, his head spinning with the rush, the idea that he was going to do this, be published in more than just magazines and local brochures. "You're my agent, nobody else. I wasn't saying that. You think it's a good deal, then let's go for it. Where's the contract?"

Bass beamed and picked up his briefcase. He pulled out a document and then scooted his chair over closer to Ray's. "I'll walk you through it in case you have any questions, but it's pretty straight forward and standard. Nothing to shoot us in the foot later."

The bell jangled from the front of the store and Cal stood up. "Business calls, gentlemen. I'll be back."

While he was gone, Bass went though all the clauses, the percentages, all the details of putting a book out that made Ray's head hurt. It was stuff that would make even Ben's head spin a little. By the time he was done, Ray figured it all sounded good, sounded like he might actually make a buck or two without losing his mind or his shirt. "Where do I sign?"

Bass held out a pen, had Ray write his signature a couple of times, then signed it himself. As soon as they finished, Jimmy smiled and put the contract away. "I'll make a copy and send it to you as soon as I get back to the office."

"Thanks. That'll be great. I appreciate you coming in and explaining all the stuff I didn't understand."

"Well, it gets a little technical sometimes, but I'm used to it. Any question you have, you just ask. Now, to celebrate."

"Celebrate?"

"Yes, celebrate." Bass got up, took his own mug and then Ray's to the sink and rinsed them out. He got out a bottle of Chivas Regal and twisted off the top. "I think this calls for a toast, don't you?"

Ray licked his bottom lip, hesitating before he asked, "How did you know I drink scotch?"

"Just a guess."

"Good guess." Pushing away the nagging, negative Ben voice in his head, Ray held up his mug and let Bass pour a couple of fingers into it. What could one toast hurt? Then Jimmy poured some for himself. He lifted it as Ray lifted his and they tapped the mugs together. "Here's to prosperity, my friend."

"Yep, down the hatch." Ray took a big sniff of the booze, and shuddered involuntarily in anticipation. It'd been way too long since his last drink, since the last time he had the explosive pleasure that alcohol gave him. He sipped first and then chugged it down, the sudden fire in his throat nearly choking him. When he put the cup down, he motioned toward Jimmy to hurry up and do it again. "One more, huh?"

The other man looked at him in surprise, but then nodded, "Sure. It's not every day a guy gets a book deal."

As Ray finished off that round just as fast, his whole body tingled as a boozy heat streamed out from his belly, making its feathery way to his brain. God, how he'd missed that, that little dulling around the sharp edges that made things a little easier to take. "That's good stuff."

Bass put the bottle on the table, still sipping at his first drink. "Keep it."

"Thanks." Ray reached out, poured some more liquor. "You want to come to supper? Fraser… Ben, my partner, he's a good cook. He always fixes more than we can eat. He'd love to meet you, too."

"I wish I could, but I can't. I've got to catch the next flight back to Edmonton. Cal's driving me to the airport in a little bit."

"Maybe next time then."

"Sure. I'll be back in a few weeks to talk about the details. Oh, and I'll send you your check as soon as I get it from the publisher. It'll likely be next week."

"Cool." They chatted for another twenty minutes or so about what kind of camera and lenses Ray used, about how and when he liked to shoot his best pictures, and the challenges of shooting animals versus scenic views. It was all easy stuff, kind of low key, no hard questions. Ray smiled, suddenly relaxed, all his doubts about the book lifted. "You're a good guy, Jimmy." Then Ray wondered where Ben was at the moment, if the day was going okay, if he'd been shot at yet. Ray drank some more, drowning out the fear that threatened to ruin the good mood they'd created.

Cal walked in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the booze on the table. "What's going on here?"

A lot happier than he should be, words kind of slipping around on his tongue, Ray reached for the bottle. "Hey, hey, join us, old buddy, old pal. We're celebratin'."

Cal and Jimmy frowned and looked all worried for no reason. Ray didn't like it much. "Hey, you guys, no gloomy faces. It's a party." He motioned toward Cal. "Come on. Just one. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't hooked me up with ol' Jimmy here."

"No, thanks. I'm driving Jimmy to the airport in a few minutes. How about some coffee instead?"

Ray shook his head, pouring himself some more scotch. "Party pooper."

Cal motioned to Bass. "Could I talk to you in the other room for a minute?"

"Sure."

While they were gone, Ray took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He lowered his head and rested his forehead on the work table. He could go to sleep right there, maybe even take a nap. God, he was tired all of a sudden.

A hand jostled his shoulder. "Ray?"

Jerking awake, Ray nearly swallowed his tongue, his heart beating way too fast. It took him a second to remember where he was. "What's goin' on?"

"Come on, I'll take you home?"

Dazed and confused, Ray lifted his head and stared into the concerned face of Chris Frame. "Where'd you come from? Where's Cal?"

"He took that Bass guy to the airport. He didn't think you should drive so he called me."

Pissed at the idea that somebody thought he couldn't fucking drive, Ray sat up really fast and regretted it. The room spun around and so he put his head down again to make it stop. "I can drive. Just give me a minute."

"I'm driving. You can get the truck tomorrow."

"Who fucking died and made you boss?"

"Come on, Ray, don't be an asshole. Let's go home."

Suddenly less in the mood to fight, Ray let Chris help him to his feet. As the bigger guy wrapped an arm around his waist, Ray hugged his neck for balance. "I've got a book deal."

"So I heard."

"My own book. That's pretty fucking great, right?"

"Fucking great. Sure." They got to the shop door and Ray's legs turned rubbery as he dropped a little to the side. Chris's grip got tighter. "Easy now. I've got you."

"You're pretty strong. Bet Eddie likes that, huh?"

Chris gave him a dirty look Ray didn't much care for, a look that said if he hadn't been flying a little already, Chris might have punched his lights out. "Let's just get in the truck, okay?"

"Touchy much?"

"You're drunk."

Ray took in a deep breath and then smiled, way too pleased with himself. They made it past the sidewalk and to the street before Ray chuckled and admitted, "I guess I am a little plastered, huh?"

That was when Ray's stomach took a notion to put in its two cents. With one hand on Chris's truck hood, Ray leaned over and hurled all over the left front tire. Chris's curse echoed in his ear as his friend grabbed his waist and kept Ray from falling head first into the concrete. "Fuck, Ray, I just washed that."

Ray groaned into his pillow, his head pounding like a crazy motherfucker and his stomach threatening to revolt any second. Rolling over on his side, he kept his eyes squeezed shut, wondering how in hell a few drinks could make a guy hurt like he'd been clobbered by an 18-wheeler on a downhill slide. "Fuck."

When he didn't get a reaction to his curse, he opened one eye carefully and found no evidence of his partner anywhere nearby. Taking his time to sit up, fighting off the waves of nausea, he used shaky hands to steady himself on the edge of the bed. When the world settled, he took a deep breath and croaked out. "Ben?"

After a few seconds, he finally heard Ben's response. "In here, Ray."

Normally, Ben came to check on him when he woke up, but not this time. Carefully, Ray got to his feet, arms outstretched to catch himself just in case he suddenly took a nosedive. He braced himself against the doorway and saw Ben drinking tea at the table. When Ben didn't look up to greet him or to offer coffee, Ray asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Ray. You?"

"Been better. Where's the truck that hit me?"

"I believe it's probably still in the bottle at Cal's place."

Pissy Ben and a hangover did not make for the start of a great morning. Fuck. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean –"

"I don't want to hear it, Ray. I really don't."

Shot down before he even got started, Ray grumbled, "Okay, okay. Forget about sorry then. We got any coffee?"

"It's on the stove."

When Ben made no effort to serve him like he usually did, Ray held up a hand. "Hey, don't get up."

"I hadn't planned to."

"Right, right, I'll get it myself then."

Hands still shaky, Ray got the mug and then poured himself some coffee, sloshing some of it on the counter. He cleaned up the mess and then carefully managed not to drop his drink before making it back to the table. "Where's the sugar?"

"Where it normally is, Ray, in the cabinet."

"Okaaaaay." Ray got up and got the sugar bowl, sitting back down, trying to remember if he'd done anything worse than getting drunk the night before. While he sweetened his coffee, Ben went right on drinking tea, reading a book, and ignoring him. "So, what are you reading?"

"Co-dependent No More by Melody Beattie."

Ray wrinkled his nose, thinking he couldn't imagine such a boring subject short of the law books Stella used to memorize. "You have to read that stuff for work or something?"

"No. It's for personal enlightenment."

"Personal enlightenment, huh?"

"Yes."

Ray drank the hot coffee, burning his tongue, but not really caring. Now that he thought about it, he barely remembered Chris bringing him home. He must have really made an ass of himself for Ben to be giving him the cold shoulder Mountie-style. Ray decided to step easy and change the subject. "I have to get my truck back. It's still parked at Cal's."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd drive me into town when you went into work."

Ben put the book down, his eyes all bloodshot, and stared at him like he was some kind of idiot child. "It's Saturday, Ray."

"Saturday? Oh, yeah. Guess that means it's your day off, huh?"

"Yes, it is."

"Okay, well, what about groceries? We need groceries, right? We could drive in for those and I could get the truck then."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" It was Ray's turn to get fed up, what with the one word answer and the bitchy tone. "Is that your funky Canadian way of saying fuck you?"

Ben stared at him, his face drawn and serious as he rubbed his right eyebrow. "No, Ray, that's my way of saying perhaps. If I wanted to say fuck you, I'd just say fuck you, though I doubt that I would use that particular profanity since it's not my usual nature to do so." Ben cleared his throat and took a deep breath, obviously itching to say something else.

So, Ray being Ray pushed harder. "Okay, spit it out. Why are you being such a pain in the ass about last night?"

"Me a pain in the ass? Good god, Ray, do you realize that Chris and I had to literally carry you to bed last night because you were unconscious? Do you have any idea how high one's blood alcohol level has to be to produce such a condition?"

Ray didn't want to argue, didn't want to start the day with a blow up with the man he loved, a man he'd obviously worried half to death the night before. God, he was a jerk and a half sometimes. "Ben, listen, don't be upset, okay? I didn't mean to get drunk. I just wanted to celebrate. I got a book deal and Jimmy had a bottle and –"

"Just stop. I'm sick of excuses." Ben stood up and went to the stove. He added more hot tea to his cup and sat back down, more composed. "I'm happy you're going to have a book published, Ray. I'm delighted for you, I truly am."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"However, I'm not happy with your behavior."

Ray rubbed his forehead with the heels of both hands, his headache still raging. "Me, neither. I just figured one drink wouldn't hurt, you know, and before I knew it, I'm three sheets to the wind. Go figure."

"You can't drink just one drink, Ray. You know that."

Considering his lousy condition, Ray didn't argue the point. He studied Ben for a moment and frowned as he realized why Ben looked so tired. "You been up all night?"

"Yes. I've been reading."

Ray picked up one of the pamphlets off the table and read the title, "AL-ANON, huh?" He looked at another and then another, all the titles having something to do with either Al-Anon or codependence. "What is all this shit, Ben? What's Al-Anon got to do with you and me?"

"It's a group that helps people who are in a codependent relationship with an alcoholic."

Ray's blood ran cold when he heard the word. "Alcoholic? You calling me a drunk?"

"Do you deny it?"

"Hell, yeah, I deny it. I know drunks, and I’m not a boozer, not even close."

Ben cocked his head to one side. "Define what you consider to be an alcoholic, Ray."

"A drunk is like my old man." Ray fought down the flood of images in his head, the sight of his father stumbling into the house after every payday, making his life miserable. "He used to come in soused Friday nights. Most of the time he didn't do anything but pass out, but sometimes he'd shove me around or yell at my mum. The older I got, the more he'd come at me instead of her. Sometimes I'd make him come after me just to make sure she was safe. He was a complete asshole when he drank. That's a drunk. I'm nothing like that. I don't get drunk that often and I never hurt anybody."

Ben's voiced softened in sympathy. "Ray, I didn't know that about your father. You never told me."

Arms wrapped tightly around his belly, Ray shrugged. "It's not something I like to talk about, okay? I lied before about how he got laid off once around Christmas. He didn't get laid off, he got fired because of the booze. Had to get jobs doing shit work for years. At least he always worked, but he was still a drunk, still is. I'm surprised his liver isn't pickled and in a jar for some freak show already."

"I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't know."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not him. I'm not like my father. It's not like I can't quit. I've quit plenty of times." Ray lifted his head and stared at Ben, his voice tight and his chest even tighter. "I've quit for you. I'll quit again if that's what you want."

"You can't quit for me, Ray. You have to quit for yourself."

"What's the difference? I quit for you, it's for me. I don't want to lose you over a bottle."

"I have no doubt you mean that now. You've meant it every time you've said it, but it doesn't last. You and I both need it to last, Ray."

"Or what? You'll leave me?"

"I'm not leaving and I'm not going to nag you about it, either. I'm not going to beg, bargain, or threaten. Staying sober has to be something you want to do for yourself."

"But I'm not the one who thinks it's a big deal. Sounds like you're dumping the whole thing in my lap."

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps you'll see what I do as being distant or unsupportive, but that's not how I mean it, Ray. I want you to be well, but you have to want that for yourself. Because of your history, I really don't think you can do this on your own. There are just so many other factors involved that could be serious stumbling blocks to your recovery."

Throwing his arms in the air, Ray snapped in frustration. "Oh, here we go again. You think I need a shrink."

"And AA."

"And what if I don't go? What are you going to do then?"

"I'll hope you change your mind."

"And if I don't?"

"Ray, I love you. I want you to get better, but whether you do or not is entirely up to you. I can only control what I do, not what you do."

"Where'd you hear that shit? Sounds like a slogan or something."

"Eddie and I went to an Al-Anon meeting last night. I found it very helpful. I plan to keep going regardless of what you do."

Ray pursed his lips, not quite sure how he felt about that, how he felt about Ben talking to other people about their life together, about his life. It was bad enough Ben saw his own shrink. Now he was taking it on the road and telling complete strangers all the dirty laundry. "Eddie, huh? You tell him all about how you think I'm a drunk just like Chris, is that it?"

"Not at all. We talked about strategies to make ourselves feel better. I found out that a lot of what I was doing or feeling had a lot more to do with me than you, Ray. My responses to your behavior were and probably still are classically co-dependent. I want to change that, but recognizing and acknowledging it is the first step to that change."

Ray sighed heavily, his elbows on the table as he covered his face with both hands. "God, you sound like some kind of commercial or something, like you've been brainwashed."

Ben reached out and took one of Ray's hands, pulling it from his face. "I assure you, that's not the case, Ray. I'm anything but brainwashed. I'm informed. I've suddenly realized that at the heart of my relationship with you is the need to control or fix your behavior. That's essentially wrong. I love you and whether you drink or don't drink, my love will never change." Ben squeezed his hand. "How I relate to you when you're drinking, however, has to change. I won't allow myself to become bitter or spiteful if you don't do what I want. You're your own person, Ray, but you're someone who's been damaged and has struggled to maintain your life against great obstacles. I want to be here to help you, not hinder you."

Eyes stinging, Ray swallowed several times before he finally spoke quietly. "You really believe all that? That I'm a drunk and shit?"

"I think you're an alcoholic, Ray. It's a disease, not a moral weakness."

"Jesus. You really do think that."

"Yes, I do." Ben paused, but then added, "There's something I think you should see."

"What?"

Ben handed him the sketchpad. "Open it."

"Why?"

"Chris stayed with you while I went to the meeting. While he was here, you were sleepwalking again. Open it."

Hands trembling, Ray looked inside and saw the raw image of Ben's scar, magnified and in explicit detail, every line and ugly ridge. "Oh, Jesus. I drew this?"

"Yes. Turn the page."

When he did, Ray caught his breath. He closed his eyes. "What the fuck is that?"

"Open your eyes, Ray, and look at it."

Ray finally opened his eyes to see a charcoal sketch of himself all cut up, the blood flowing from his neck and other crimson slashes on his chest and his leg. He flashed on a memory, a different time, a different pain. Ray's stomach cramped up, but instead of being sick, Ray bit his lower lip and he forced himself to really focus on the picture. "Fuck, that's me."

"Yes, it is.

"I don't remember this, not really."

"What do you mean, not really?"

"It's what I dream about. I see it almost every night."

Ben's voice shook slightly. "It wasn't a dream, Ray. It was real. That's exactly how you looked after the attack. You're going to need help with remembering what happened, more help than I can give you. I think you know that."

Ray trusted Ben with his life, with his heart, his whole life. He was the smartest man Ray knew and, to be honest, Ben might have a point about the whole can't have just one drink thing, and that had to mean something, something not good. The creepy drawing from his nightmares, that was the trump card, the final straw. He couldn't keep carrying that shit around in his head anymore, not and keep from going even nuttier than he was. Ray shuddered, hoping like hell that it wasn't too late to turn things around. "I'm don't want to be my father, Ben, and I don't want to be some crazy guy drawing shit in his sleep, okay? I guess I need to think about stopping before it gets any worse, huh?"

"I'll do what I can to help."

"I fucking hate shrinks."

"I know."

"You think Kate's old man has Saturday hours?"

"You can call and find out."

"Would you do it for me?"

Ben shook his head, but his voice was still gentle. "No, Ray, it's your step to take. You make the call."

Ray closed his eyes, biting his lower lip harder and hoping like hell he had the strength to really do it right this time. His first doctor, Reese, had been a washout, a complete control freak that drove Ray up the fucking wall. Collier was okay, but he'd never really let her in too close, never let her hear the really tough stuff, the stuff he never wanted to put words to. Maybe the new guy would do what the other two couldn't, help him get a handle on his own life before it was too late to get better. "Third time's a charm, huh?"

"I hope so, Ray."

"Yeah, me, too." But he wasn't holding his breath or wishing on any shooting stars anytime soon.

Dr. Sean Murphy could've been a model or a movie star or pretty much anything he wanted to be if he hadn't decided to be a shrink instead. In fact, the only man better looking in Ray's opinion, especially when he was either naked or all decked out in his red uniform, was Ben.

Dark-haired, brown-eyed, Murphy wore a few days' growth of beard and mustache, neatly trimmed. The angles of his face, especially his nose, reminded Ray of the Roman statues he'd seen in art magazines and history books. Put him in fancy clothes instead of the blue sweater and jeans he was wearing and he could've walked the runways of any fashion show in the world. Instead, he sat quietly and observed, waiting patiently for Ray to come clean and tell him all about his business. Ray paced the room, unsettled by just how handsome the guy was, not really sure why that mattered. He could've looked like a fucking bullfrog as long as he could help keep Ray from exploding and tearing his hair out.

Intelligent eyes followed him as Ray walked from window to chair and back to the window. After a couple of minutes of silence, Murphy finally spoke. "Mr. Kowalski, may I call you Ray?"

"Sure, fine, whatever. That's my name."

"So what brings you here? You sounded quite anxious on the phone."

"Yeah, well, I am, anxious, that is. I appreciate you fitting me in, new guy and all."

"It's not a problem. Many people work during the week and need Saturday appointments. So, how might I help you?"

Ray crossed his arms, his chest too tight, like there just wasn't enough air in the room for him to keep talking. He cleared his throat and figured, what the fuck? He was here, might as well just jump in with both feet, shoot with both barrels, right? "I think I'm going nuts."

Ray gave the guy high marks because he didn't even look shocked, like it was an every day kind of confession. Then again, maybe for a shrink, it was. "Why do you think that, Ray?"

"I'm doing stuff, crazy stuff, shit I can't control and don't remember doing."

"Like what?"

"Sleepwalking for one and having nightmares for another. I have a lot of nightmares."

"Anything else?"

"I draw in my sleep."

"Draw?"

"You know, draw, like drawing pictures of things I dream about, but then when I wake up, I don't remember drawing them."

Murphy looked at him a little harder. "That sounds disturbing."

"Hell, yeah. How would you like it if you woke up and couldn't remember fuck all about what you'd been up to?"

"I'd be upset."

"Yeah, me, too. I even cut myself one time." Ray stepped closer to the desk and held out his left hand, pointing at the scar on the heel of his palm. "See? I have no idea how that happened. I woke up and, bam, there it was, a huge chunk of glass in my hand, blood everywhere. I even had to get stitches. Freaked me out a little."

"I can see why it would. So, the sleepwalking's been going on for sometime then?"

"Off and on, yeah. I hadn't done it for a few weeks, but then I did it again last night. Creepy as hell, too."

"Did something unusual happen yesterday?"

Ray chewed the inside of his cheek and then sat down in the chair across from Murphy. Fidgeting, he couldn't sit still, couldn't quite get comfortable, his right leg bouncing around like it had a life of its own. He wanted to leave, just take off, stop this whole fucking thing before he got locked up. The guy was as bad as a cop, always asking questions, expecting answers. He hated that, hated talking about his life to somebody he didn't even know. Murphy prompted, "Ray, did something unusual happen yesterday?"

Ray snapped, "Well, my partner went back to work fulltime and I got a book deal."

"A book deal?"

"Yeah, I'm a photographer. My agent came into town to tell me I got a book deal. I'm going to be published like I always wanted. So, we celebrated a little too much and I got drunk. So what? Why is that such a big deal? It's not everyday a guy gets a book, right?"

"Do you get drunk often?"

Ray hesitated for a second, but then shook his head. "No, but I guess the thing is, when I do, I get drunk, I mean, really, really drunk. Ben thinks it's a problem."

"Ben?"

"Ben Fraser, otherwise known as Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP. We were cop partners in Chicago. We moved up here and now he's working again and I'm on a disability pension, no more badge for Kowalski the head case."

Murphy leaned in, his hands fisted together on the desk. "My wife was there when you and your partner were shot, Ray. I can imagine this has been a difficult few months for both of you while he's been recovering."

"Look, I don't know how much Kate's told you about me and him, but –"

Murphy held up a hand. "Kate hasn't told me anything about you other than she's your therapist. We've got this rule, Kate and I, that we don't discuss our clients. I only know about the shooting because she was there and because I read about it in the paper. That must have been very traumatic."

"Yeah, you could say that." Ray squeezed his eyes shut briefly, fisting his hands on the arm of the chair as he fought off the parade of terrible images of Ben being shot, of being helpless once again. God, he hated being so lame, so fucking useless when it mattered.

"Dr. Egan's a friend and colleague. I know he referred you to me before the shooting, but you never came. Why was that?"

"I guess I thought I didn't need to come. Guess I wasn't ready. Who the fuck knows?"

"Why do you think he thought you needed to see me?"

Ray cocked his head sideways and stretched his neck, his muscles all tight. "I've seen a couple of shrinks before, back in Chicago. I've got this thing, this post traumatic stress thing is what they called it. Sometimes I space out a little bit. I did it in his office once, so he thought I needed to see somebody. I didn't agree."

"Space out? What's that mean exactly?"

"You know, where I kind of go off somewhere in my head. It's one of the reasons I'm on disability. I couldn't be a cop anymore. I'm not fit to work the streets because I might get somebody else killed and I didn't want to work a desk. So, here I am taking pictures instead."

"Does that bother you, not being a police officer anymore?"

"Sometimes. I mean, it's what I was, what I'd always been. Now I'm not. It's hard, you know?"

"Seems like you've gone through a lot of major life changes very quickly. That would be unsettling to most people."

"I guess, yeah."

"So tell me the biggest change, the thing that has made the biggest impact on your life."

Finally, the guy gave him an easy one. "Ben."

"Why Ben?"

Ray shrugged, wondering how he could explain something so important, so crucial with just words. He figured he'd start from scratch and give it his best shot. "I was married before."

"Really?"

"Yeah, for a long time. It was a love at first sight kind of thing. I met Stella during a bank robbery when I was thirteen."

"A bank robbery?"

Ray waved off any questions about the whole pissing in the bank thing, not wanting to lose his rhythm once he got started. "Yeah, yeah, long story for another time. Anyway, loved her, married her, thought I'd live happily ever after, have kids and a family. Didn't happen. Being a cop got in the way."

"Police work is difficult for family members sometimes."

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I went undercover one too many times. I got really banged up and she left me. I took one more gig after that and that's when I met Fraser. I was undercover as his partner, Ray Vecchio. Don't ask the details because it's complicated and kind of top secret." Unsettled as he got closer to thinking about the second attack, Ray stood up again and paced some more, his legs heavier, his muscles all achy. "Anyway, something happened, something really bad, and I got hurt again, I mean, really hurt, nearly dead hurt. Ben and I hooked up right after that, but I was all messed up, still am. We've just been trying to make it, but every time I think we're going to be okay, something else happens to fuck it up. Like coming to Yellowknife. I thought it would be safer and then he gets shot. That's not supposed to happen up here, not in Canada, not when I'm fucking standing right there, for fuck sake. Shit."

Instead of focusing on his reaction to Ben getting shot, Murphy hit him with a question he wasn't expecting. "When you say you got hurt again on the job, what exactly do you mean by that? Were you shot?"

"No, not shot." The air got a little thinner and Ray closed his eyes. "I don't want to talk about that."

"That's fine, not a problem. Why don't you sit down, Ray? Try to relax. We won't talk about anything you're not ready to talk about. I promise."

Murphy's low, soothing voice caught him before he stepped over the edge into the past. Ray's eyes snapped open, thankful for the light. His heart raced, but he took several deep breaths to calm down. He settled into the chair before Murphy asked, "Does that happen often?"

"What?"

"You looked a little panicky."

"I don't like to talk about what happened. I mean, the thing is, I don't remember exactly what happened, but I know what it was like to wake up and be all messed up, to have people looking at me with those looks."

"What looks?"

"You know what looks, pity looks, like I was a freak or something. I mean, I looked pretty bad, I know that. I was all cut up, had stitches everywhere, my arm was broken, couldn't half walk right. It was bad. That didn't mean they had the right to treat me like some kind of cripple. Ben was the only one who didn't look at me like that, who made me feel like I was still the same me inside, you know?"

"But you say you don't remember what happened?"

"Not then, but I think I'm starting to remember and that's really freaking me out a little. I don't know if I'm ready to handle all that."

"Well, what makes you think you're remembering?"

"Those drawings I'm making about my dreams?"

"Yes."

"Ben says they're not dreams, that they're real."

"Ben was there when you were attacked?"

"Right after, at the rescue. He was there when the son of a bitch was killed." The words came out hoarse and a little choked. "Ben's the only thing that keeps me going over the edge, you know? He's the one good thing that's happened out of all the bad."

"You love him."

"I'm here because of him."

"Here in Yellowknife?"

"No, here here as in not dead here."

Murphy stiffened, his back straighter. "What are you saying exactly?"

"Don't worry, doc. I'm not thinking about offing myself anymore."

"But you did think about it once?"

"Yeah, for a while." Ray let out a deep breath, the one he'd been holding for way too long. "Now, it's different. I don't think up plans to do it like I did before. Now I just hang around because I couldn't do that to Ben."

"You don't think living is its own reward?"

Ray met those sincere brown eyes and then snorted. The guy sounded like a priest or something. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not actually. Isn't there anything that gives you a purpose besides your partner, something that makes you happy?"

Ray thought for a moment. In the past he might have answered differently, said there was nothing that kept him sneaking off to live in the hereafter except seeing Ben's face in the morning. Now, there were a few other things he enjoyed. "Well, there's this kid I'm teaching, Jeremy. He's Mimi LeBeau's kid."

"I know Jeremy. He's a great young man, very talented."

"Yeah, he is, and bright, too. He likes planes and I'm trying to teach him to take a good picture. I have to admit hanging around with him makes me feel pretty good. Ben says it's because I'm just a big kid myself. Could be."

"Anything else make you happy?"

"Taking a good shot."

"Shot as in drinking?"

"No, as in taking a good picture. Or drawing. I like to do that, too. It helps calm me down except when I do it while I'm sleeping."

"What else makes you happy, Ray?"

Ray took another second and then said, "I like playing with Dief."

"Dief?"

"Diefenbaker, our wolf.

"You've got a wolf?"

"Wolf dog, but more wolf than dog. He's a real character, always trying to steal food and chase rabbits. I like watching him run or having him lick my face, which is really weird because who the fuck likes wolf slobber? It's just that it makes me feel good to have him act like he loves me as much as he loves Ben. It's nice, you know?"

"Anything else?"

"Music, dancing, thinking about Ben. Those are good things."

"So, it seems you've found a few things to be happy about, things you didn't have or couldn't appreciate before."

"Yeah, I guess."

"It seems to me you've made a lot of progress from the time when you were thinking about ending it all."

Ray stared at Murphy a long moment and finally nodded. "Yeah, I guess I have."

"Still have a ways to go, though, eh?"

"Yeah, maybe, some days more than others."

"I mean, what's your goal in coming here, Ray?"

Ray considered the question a couple of seconds before he answered, "I guess I want to be happy more than I'm not happy."

"That's a tough nut, being happy. Happy takes work. It might mean more than a couple of sessions. You think you're up for that?"

Ray lifted his chin and crossed his arms, sort of like he was taking the challenge seriously, but wasn't sure yet. "Might be. How many more sessions are we talkin' about?"

"Why don't we start with three times a week and see how that goes?"

Nodding in agreement, Ray realized he didn't mind this new guy, that with his help, Ray might actually be able to move forward instead of being stuck drowning in the middle of nowhere that was his own mind.

Ben waited for him in the hallway downstairs and they walked to the jeep without talking. Dief climbed into the back and they both got in the front side by side. Ben started the engine before he asked, "How did it go?"

"You asking for details?"

"Of course not. I'd never do that, Ray."

"I know. Sorry. Actually, it went okay. He's not bad for a shrink."

Ben visibly relaxed and smiled. "That's wonderful, Ray."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I mean, it's only one session. We'll have to wait and see if this is a done deal or not."

"But it's a good start, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Would you like to pick up your truck first or get something to eat?"

Not really looking forward to facing Cal's disapproval after being such a jackass, Ray opted for food. "Let's go to Mimi's."

"Mimi's it is."

As they drove away from the clinic, Ray looked out over the glistening flatness of the land. Fresh snow blanketed the whole area. "It's all clean again, all white and cold like it was last Christmas."

"Yes, it stays so cold and dry here, that once the snow falls, it doesn't melt, not until spring."

"Which around here is closer to May or June, right?"

"Usually May, yes, though it's been getting warmer every year."

Ray smiled and shook his head, his own breath puffing white clouds in front of his face despite the heater going full blast. "If you live in an igloo maybe."

"Actually, the internal temperature of an igloo can be quite warm, Ray."

His head resting against the seat, eyes closed, Ray listened to Ben's lecture on the construction and care of the Inuit igloo. Ben's voice was almost like music, better really, calming like a warm touch. It made Ray's whole body tingle. When Ben stopped talking, Ray opened his eyes and turned his head. "What?"

"I thought you'd fallen asleep."

"No, I was just listening. I like listening to you talk." Ben's face flushed a little redder, not from the cold but from Ray's words. "I can't believe you still do that."

"Do what?"

"Turn all red like that when I say stuff."

Ben tugged at his ear, his lips thinned into a self-conscious smile. "It's difficult to control my body's reaction to your compliments, Ray."

Ray reached over, put his hand on Ben's thigh, and squeezed. Ben got even redder and cleared his throat. Ray saw the familiar bulge at the crotch of Ben's jeans and teased, "Your body's trying to tell you something. Maybe we should skip lunch and go straight home. I can get the truck anytime."

Ben glanced over, his eyes all sparkling blue and hopeful. "I think that's a fine idea, Ray. We can call Cal later if necessary and tell him we were delayed."

Dief woofed a complaint about missing out on Mimi's moose stew from the back and Ben snapped, "Oh, for god sakes. You're a wolf, hunt your own dinner."

Ray laughed and scooted over, resting his head on Ben's shoulder, keeping his hand on his leg. "Might want to drive a little faster."

Suddenly breathy, Ben complained, "Good god, Ray, if you keep this up, I won't be able to function. I could crash and kill us all."

"You want me to stop?"

Ben stepped on the gas, not breaking any laws, but going the absolute limit. "Don't you dare."

Back home, Ray shoved Ben back up against the wall, devouring his mouth. He loved how Ben smelled, like leather and wood smoke, like a warm fire on a cold night when he was freezing his balls off. It turned Ray on to be kissing him so hard and having Ben kiss him back just as hard, his tongue snaking into Ray's mouth like he was starving. Ray broke the kiss and whispered, "Bed?"

"Sooner rather than later, I should think."

They both stripped off quickly and got under the covers. Ray pulled Ben's naked body close, rubbing his crotch against Ben's, his partner's erection slick and burning Ray's skin. Their mouths locked together again and Ben moaned deep in his throat. Ray pushed him on his back and then moved on top, his knees in between Ben's spread legs. Ray lifted his body, bracing himself with his outstretched arms, and stared down into Ben's hungry face. "I love you."

Ben caressed his cheek, searching his face, and smiled. "I love you, too, Ray." Without saying anything else, Ben captured the back of Ray's neck and urged him closer, guiding his mouth to his chest. Ray hesitated, his lips just at the edge of Ben's scar. He nibbled first on the nipple, but then licked upward, sliding his tongue over the delicate, uneven tissue. Ben gasped and arched upward, his hand still on Ray's neck. "Ray?"

He licked again before lifting his head. "Yeah?"

"You've never done that before."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. It's rather sensitive, but it doesn't hurt."

Using his right index finger, Ray traced the outline of the scar while Ben watched. "You want me to stop?"

"No. It's just you've never touched me there. In fact, if anything, you've gone out of your way to avoid it."

"Does it bother you, me touching you there?"

"No." Ben swallowed hard, his eyes dark with arousal. "I like it. You can touch me anywhere you want."

Ray met his eyes and then nodded. Dipping his head, he lapped the edge of the scar and worked his way inward to the very center with his tongue. Using his fingers, he teased Ben's nipples and then nibbled his way up his neck before heading south. Ben's hand cupped the back of Ray's head, his own head thrown back, his neck exposed, his eyes squeezed shut.

Sliding downward, the covers tented over Ray's body as he spread Ben's legs apart even further. Then he took his time, licking and teasing all around Ben's thighs and balls, the throbbing dick leaking already. Pleased with himself, happy to hear Ben moaning his name, Ray finally took pity and got serious. He sucked just the head of the dick into his mouth as Ben twitched, pushing into his face, but it was too much, too soon. Using both hands, Ray held Ben's hips back down before he whispered, "Shh, slow down, take it easy."

"Ray, please."

"Please what?"

"You know what."

Ben's husky, breathless voice got to him every time. No way could he drag it out when Ben sounded about ready to pop any minute. Still, he wanted to hear him say it. Nothing got him hotter than a dirty-mouthed Mountie. "Say it."

A few seconds later, Ben surrendered. "Suck me."

"Was that hard to say?"

"Good god, Ray, your sadistic tendencies are really quite –"

Before Ben had a chance to finish that sentence, Ray swallowed down most of Ben's dick while he slid a finger into his ass. Ben grunted and twisted against the bed, his hips bucking again. This time Ray allowed him to fuck his mouth quickly before Ben thrust even deeper and came. Strong hands grabbed the sides of Ray's face as Ben shuddered and finished, spilling his come down Ray's throat. Ben's breathing was so ragged, it roared in Ray's ears.

Ray pulled back, coughing slightly and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He surprised himself about how much he liked the sharp taste, like how swallowing actually turned him on. His own dick still hard, he knew just what he wanted to do next, just as soon as Ben got his wind back.

Ray licked the salty sweat from Ben's chest and worked his way upward, kissing and tonguing the slick skin. He let his body settle on top of Ben's, let his partner's racing heartbeat and panting slow to near normal levels. Ben's hands slid up and down Ray's body, slow and easy, before settling on his lower back. Eyes still closed, Ben whispered, "Dear lord, Ray, what you do to me."

"I'm not done yet."

Eyes opened, and Ben smiled. "I take it you require reciprocal gratification?"

"Oh, yeah, but I want more than just your mouth this time."

Like a smart Mountie, Ben caught on really fast. "You want more as in more?"

"Oh, yeah, I want more, I want to go all the way."

"But we haven't done that for a while. I might need a bit of preparation."

"Yeah? I think I can handle that if you're up for it."

Ben pulled Ray's face closer, kissed him, and then pulled back. "I'm more than up for it, Ray. I'll do anything you want, any way you want. You know that."

Suddenly more horny than he'd been in months, Ray grabbed Ben's face with both hands and kissed him thoroughly again, biting Ben's lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to sting. Ben shuddered and pulled him closer. Ray pulled back. "Turn over. I want to do this and go deep. You okay with that?"

"More than okay."

Before Ben flipped over, Ray held his chin. "You have to tell me if I get too rough, okay?"

"You can't get too rough, Ray."

"Ben –"

"Ray, I've told you about my preferences. It's one of many things I like."

Ray searched the face of the man he loved for just an extra few moments, looking for any hint, any doubt, but found none. He knew what Ben liked, how he really got turned on by being fucked from behind, hard and deep. Ray just hadn't been in the mood for that, not for a long time. All of a sudden though, Ray wanted to bury himself as deep as he could, needed to get off hammering into Ben until Ben got off again, too.

"Okay, turn over and get up on all fours, head down."

Without hesitation, Ben did just that, completely trusting Ray's command. Ray kissed the left ass cheek and smiled. "You're so beautiful, you know that, right?"

"Thank you, Ray. You're beautiful, too."

"And you're delusional." Before Ben had a chance to argue or say anything else, Ray slapped his butt and whispered, "No more talking unless you need me to stop. Otherwise, don't distract me. I want to focus."

"Oh, please do."

Ray gave Ben's cheek a little slap. "What'd I say?" Ben pursed his mouth tightly and pretended to zip and lock his lips, throwing away the key, something he'd picked up from Ray. "That's better. We're going to do this my way for a change."

Ray saw that Ben wanted to say something, but restrained himself, getting into the spirit of a whole new level of Ray weirdness. Reaching over into the drawer in bedside table, Ray got the condom and slick. It'd been a while, but his hands shook at just the thought of fucking Ben again. It'd been so long. They'd gone months of either no sex or just messing around, blowjobs and jerking one another off. Not that he was complaining. That was all good, safe and comfortable. He'd even gotten used to Ben sticking his tongue and fingers in the weirdest places. But he still couldn't let Ben fuck him, didn’t know if he ever could. Even so, he sure as hell could give Ben some of what he needed. Slicking up one finger with more than precome, he parted Ben's cheeks and pushed inside, the clenched muscle sucking him in right away. Ben shuddered and trembled as Ray finger-fucked him with one and then two fingers.

Super tight, Ben had been right about needing preparation, so Ray took his time, teasing his ass with his fingers and stroking Ben's half-erect dick with the other hand. Ben had just come, so it would take a few more minutes to get him hard again, and Ray wanted that, wanted it as much as he wanted to get off himself. By the time Ben finally got hard enough, Ray had three fingers going in and out without too much resistance. He kissed Ben's butt and whispered, "Nod if you're ready."

Ben nodded with enthusiasm, his face all red and sweat dripping down his face in big droplets. His eyes met Ray and Ray grinned. He leaned in and kissed Ben's lips. "I have to stop and put on the condom. It'll only take a second. Then I'm going to fuck you, Ben, fuck you just like you like, okay?"

Breaking his silence, Ben pleaded, "Ray, please, just do it. No condom."

Hesitating, Ray shook his head. "You sure?"

"Very sure. Please?"

"I don't know…"

"I love you, Ray. Please do it for me."

Ben never really asked for much, rarely said what he needed or wanted. They'd done it that way before, but only a few times when they first started. Since then, they'd always used rubbers. He'd dreamed about fucking Ben raw like that again. "Okay, sure, we can go bareback if you want. Now, shush."

Ben nodded and closed his eyes, his body all hot and shiny. Ray moved into position, kneeling behind Ben. Using one hand on Ben's hip to steady himself, Ray used the other to guide the tip of his dick inside. Even with the finger prep, the hole resisted. Ray pushed a little harder and Ben shoved back in frustration, like he couldn't wait one more second, groaning as he did it. It only took a couple of hard thrusts to do the job, to be buried completely. Ray leaned up and over Ben, kissing his back and using his free hand to stroke Ben's dick. Then he got started, pulling out and ramming back in, his own pleasure finally taking over his mind, the build up like a glowing kind of pressure all over his body. He set up a rhythm, Ben matching his every move, both men rocking together. Ray's world settled into his crotch, the heat building and flowing up and all around his middle, nothing but pleasure, nothing but Ben letting him do this thing, make this special connection.

Gasping for air, Ray's world swam in bright colors until his brain exploded into a million streamers, ribbons of reds and yellows married blues and greens. His whole body sparked at once, pure bliss lacing his skin, his muscles, every part of his being. Jerking in release, his soul danced with a joy that swallowed up every ounce of what he was, what he could be, ever wanted to be. It was the one thing he knew, that being with Ben, loving Ben, defined heaven. It couldn't get any better.

Ben collapsed beneath him, shuddering, wheezing and gasping for air, but not complaining. After a few moments, his vision clear, Ray nibbled on the lobe of Ben's left ear and then whispered, "I'm sorry."

The smile faded and Ben opened his eyes. "For what?"

"For being a jerk, for yesterday, take your pick. I'm sorry."

"Ray, please tell me you didn't do this out of remorse."

"You kidding? Of course not. I just thought I should say it when you'd listen."

Ben relaxed again and closed his eyes, apparently more than happy to play mattress for a while longer. "I always listen, Ray."

Still stretched out across Ben's back, Ray shifted just a little. Without the condom, he felt the stickiness of the come as he withdrew. "This is kind of messy."

"It's a good mess."

"Good mess, huh? You liked it?"

Chuckling into his pillow, Ben asked, "That surprises you?"

"From a neat freak like you, yeah, a little."

"Perhaps I'm not quite as much of a neat freak when it comes to sex as you might think."

"Well, considering you like to stick your tongue in my ass on a regular basis, you're probably right."

Ben's throaty laughter made Ray smile even bigger. He slipped over and off Ben's back before allowing Ben to draw him in closer, his arms wrapped around his middle under the covers. "I should get up and start a fire."

"I think we just made our own fire."

"You won't be saying that if we fall asleep and die of hypothermia in our own bed."

"That likely to happen?"

"No, but still it's wise not to tempt the elements."

"Fuck the elements." Ray snuggled in closer, his face buried against Ben's sweaty chest. "I don't want to move yet. I like it like this, just us. It's like, I don't know, like it's right somehow."

Ben didn't speak right away, but after a moment asked, "Has it not felt right before now?"

Trick-question Mountie wasn't going to trip him up if he could help it. Ray shook his head. "It always feels right with you. It's when the world and the past gets in the way that I get confused and fucked up."

"The world and the past will always be there, Ray."

"I know that."

"But we can deal with those things together."

Taking a deep breath, Ray closed his eyes, content and still strumming from coming. "Yeah, I know that. We're a duet, you and me, a team of two, that's us."

Ben kissed the top of his head, holding him a little closer as they both drifted off to sleep.

Ray woke to chirping, but not just chirping, sort of musical chirping. Eyes still squeezed shut, he listened carefully. He knew that song, well, almost knew it well enough to hum since he didn't know the words yet. He still couldn't dance to it, though. He opened his eyes and once again found himself alone in bed. It was getting to be a bad habit, waking up alone. He didn't much care for it.

Ben's voice came from the other room, soft and low, but not like with Dief, more like he was talking secrets. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Ray pulled the covers up and around his shoulders, covering himself from the chill and checked around for his clothes, which had apparently done a disappearing act just like his neat freak partner. Drop a sock, don't expect it to be there more than a few minutes, not if Ben was still breathing. Grabbing some clean grey sweats from the bureau, he got dressed and stepped to the doorway just as he heard, "I'll see you then."

"See who when? And when did you get a new cell phone?"

"Chris and Eddie are coming by shortly." Ben held up his shiny new phone, silver and a lot smaller than the dinosaur Ray carried. "Cal's son is selling very attractive and affordable consumer packages. I decided I should have a phone for myself now that I'm returning to active duty."

"Good idea. One for you, one for me. We don't have to share."

"I agree. By the way, I've already programmed my number into your phone in case you should need to call me."

Ray had no clue about programming anything beyond his remote back in Chicago, so he nodded, happy he didn't have to learn some new Canadian number in order to get through to Ben when he needed to. "Cool."

"I'm memory one."

"That's a fact."

Ben smiled, shaking his head in amusement at Ray's sexy tone. He asked, "Did you know Randy's saving for a trip to Europe next summer?"

"Yeah, I heard that." Ray sat down at the table, rubbing his eyes, still a little blurry from before. "But 'O, Canada'? You couldn't just have a regular ring tone like everybody else?"

"This particular model affords me the option of several musical prompts and, as you well know, I'm rather fond of that tune."

Ray snorted in amusement. "Go figure." He studied Ben for a moment, still feeling pretty well blitzed and pleased with himself from the lovemaking earlier. Ben sat in his tan, overstuffed easy chair by the fire, a red book closed under his right hand. He wore the tweed ski lodge sweater with a maroon starburst pattern Mimi gave him for his birthday. It didn't look much like anything Ben would normally wear, but it was virgin wool and hand-knitted by the lady herself, so Ben really liked it and wore it a lot more often than Ray would've guessed. Ray had to admit, Ben looked pretty damn hot wearing the thing, too. "So why are you so dressed up?"

"Chris and Eddie are picking me up in about fifteen minutes."

"Picking you up? For what?"

"Ray, I told you about attending the Al-Anon meetings. They're held in the same building and at the same time as the AA meetings, so we're all going together."

Frowning, not happy at all, Ray shook his head in surprise. "Wait, wait, are you saying you have to go to those things a lot, like everyday or something?"

"It varies and depends on the individual. Some people go every day, some once a week. I presume it has to do with what one feels the need to do."

"You're kidding, right? You really think you need to go again so soon? I mean, I don't get this." Ray got up and moved closer, sitting on the sofa, leaning in, his elbows braced on his knees. "I mean, I went to the shrink like you asked. That's not enough? You still need to go sit around and talk about private shit with strangers?"

Ben cocked his head to the side, the way he did when he actually took time to consider what he'd say next. After a few moments, he licked his lower lip and nodded. "I believe so, yes."

"But why?"

"Perhaps you didn't fully comprehend my earlier explanation, Ray. Trying to manage my codependent behavior isn't really about you. It's about me. The meeting yesterday and the subsequent reading opened my eyes to a whole new chapter of understanding about myself. I need to do this. I'm sorry if that upsets you. I assure you, that wasn't my intention."

Ray sat back, his whole body tight and flushed with heat, almost as bad as right after he'd punched Ben that one time. Guilt rode him like a cheap whore and Ray didn't really know how to tell the bitch to get off. Ray had done this to his partner, knocked the emotional legs right out from under him, made him some kind of cripple who needed fucking meetings and a shrink to feel better. Crossing his arms, resolved to for once make it about Ben and not himself, Ray took a deep calming breath. "Okay then. If that's what you have to do, do it. I won't stop you."

"But you still don't like it."

"I won't kid you. I don't get it, but I'll just have to suck it up. It's not the first thing I don't get and it sure as hell won't be the last. Just don't ask me to go with you, that’s all I ask."

"I appreciate that, Ray. I know it's difficult for you." Ben paused and then tugged on his ear. "Not to be argumentative or critical, but have you thought about why you're so vehemently opposed to at least trying AA? It certainly seems to be quite effective for a lot of people."

"Like Chris, you mean?"

"And many others."

"I'm not a drunk, Fraser. What would be the point?"

"Ah, I see. You still don't see your bouts of drinking as being an obstacle to wellbeing?"

"I'm not drinking. I told you I quit, quit for good. What's the point of sitting around with a bunch of juiceheads and talking about it?" Ray got up, pacing in front of the fire, all tense and anxious, all the good feeling from earlier gone, kaput, so long-see ya later. "Look, you go and do what you have to do. I'll call Cal and see about getting my truck back."

"We could drop you at the shop. You could drive back from there."

"If he's still there."

"Call and have him meet us if he's not."

Ray slumped back down on the sofa. "To tell you the truth, I'm not in the mood to go bumming a ride off Chris and Eddie. Chris tries to recruit me one more time for the drunk brigade and I'm liable to pop him one."

"They're our friends, Ray. They've been especially kind to us since we've been here."

"I know that. I'm not saying different. I'm just not in the mood for preaching tonight, that's all. I've had about all I can handle."

Looking pained, Ben stared off into space for a few moments. "Is that what I've been doing, Ray, preaching?"

"I wasn't talking about you."

"Are you sure?"

Ray met his troubled gaze and nodded. "I'm sure. I'm just tired. I don't mean to be an asshole. I know they're our friends. I just don't want to deal with Chris's holier than thou shit tonight."

"Why would you think he'd have that kind of attitude, Ray? Considering his situation, I find that he's usually more humble than smug about his struggle with sobriety."

"Yeah, well, you weren't the one he had to lug home last night because you were too drunk to drive. I'd just as soon skip the lecture if you don't mind."

"Ah, understood. Still, after your contentious sparring with Dewey, I'd say you're more than capable of standing your own ground if you don't like the subject of discussion."

"I didn't say I couldn't. I'm just saying I don't want to. I'm tired, too tired to put up with his shit, okay? Just let it go. I'll call Cal and see if he can drive the truck out here tonight and I'll drive him back. If he can't, we'll get it tomorrow."

"As you wish."

They sat there in silence a few more moments before Ray asked, "What about supper? Did you eat?"

"I thought I'd get something at Mimi's after the meeting. I made you some soup. It's on the stove for later when you're hungry."

"I hate eating alone." It sounded like a pitiful whine even to himself. God, what a baby. Still, it was the truth. He'd rather not eat if he had to eat without Ben.

Ben cocked his head and then smiled thinly. "I can wait until I get home and eat with you if you like."

"You'd do that, go hungry for me? I mean, you don't have to. I can eat by myself."

"I'm not going to starve by eating a few hours later, Ray. Besides, I like sharing our meals. I'll wait. It's not really a hardship."

"Thanks."

"I'll put the soup off to the side and then we'll reheat it later. It should be fine for a few hours."

"What kind did you make," Ray teased, "lichens and blubber?"

"Close. Leeks and moose."

"Yum, sounds right up my alley if the alley is in the middle of the tundra."

"I think you'll find it pleasing enough. If you'd like, I'll bring us a pie home for dessert."

"Chocolate?"

"Is there any other kind?"

"Does that nasty rhubarb thing you brought home once count?"

Ben finally grinned back. "Not in the least."

Ray sat at the kitchen table putting the finishing touches on a drawing of Ben reading by the fire. Sipping coffee, Ray had to admit it looked pretty damn good, not as good as Ben in the flesh, but not half bad. Sometimes sketching Ben's hair gave him more fits than the real hair gave Ben in the morning before work, but it'd turned out just right this time. As he got up to freshen his drink, Ray heard an engine shutting off outside. Dief padded to the door, whining, but not scratching to go out. It was too early to be Ben, so Ray peeked out the window. He saw Renny getting out of his truck alone, no Stevie. Something wasn't right. Those two had been attached at the hip since they'd met, but not this time. This time Renny was alone, still wearing his uniform and just standing outside in the dark looking all lost. Ray turned on the porch light and then opened the door to shout to his friend. "Come on inside before you freeze your ass off."

"Right you are, Ray. Sorry."

Renny walked inside, shoulders slumped, his face red, and his eyes all puffy from crying. As Ray took his coat, he asked, "What's going on?"

"It's awful, Ray. I can't even believe it."

His friend closed his eyes, big tears rolling down his cheeks. Concerned, Ray touched his arm and guided him to the sofa. "Sit down before you fall down." Ray handed him a box of Kleenex and then sat down beside him, a reassuring hand on his arm. "Come on, take it easy. It can't be that bad. Did you and Stevie have a fight or something?"

Renny shook his head, still sobbing, a big wad of Kleenex held against his nose. "No, no, nothing like that. Stevie's wonderful."

"Then what?"

"It's Peter."

"Peter? What about him? Is he back in town? Is he causing trouble?

Renny blew his nose loudly, working hard to catch his breath, still shaking his head. "He's dead."

Stunned by the words, Ray couldn't believe it. "Dead? You're kidding. What the hell happened?"

"I'm not really sure." Renny choked out his words as he fought off more tears. "As you know, I'm working as Inspector Hathaway's assistant while his previous assistant is on maternity leave."

"Yeah, I knew that. Ben said you were doing a bang up job, too."

"Bang up job?"

"It's a good thing. He said you're doing great."

"Thank you, Ray. That means a great deal to me. I've always valued his opinion about my professional efforts."

"So, what's being Hathaway's assistant got to do with Peter?"

"We got a fax today from the Chicago Police Department asking for information about a man by the name of Howard Watson of Yellowknife, NWT. It said they were investigating the death of one Peter Pulaski and this Howard person might be involved."

Son of a bitch, Ray wanted to get up and punch the wall a few times, but kept his cool for Renny's sake. Blowing off steam and breaking his fist wouldn't do his friend any good. "God, I'm so sorry, Renny. I really am."

Renny's chin quivered as he closed his eyes, sobbing once more. Ray drew him closer, let Renny rest his head on his shoulder and just cry it out. While he did that, Ray's mind raced, wondering what the fuck really happened and if the Howard they were investigating was the same punk Peter had left with when he'd flown out that last day. After a few minutes, Renny raised his head, sniffling, and getting more Kleenex.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I got your shirt all wet."

"Don't worry about it."

"It's just such a shock. I never expected him to die."

"Yeah, you never do."

"He had his faults, but deep down he was a very good person. He could be remarkably kind and generous, almost to a fault. He only wanted to help people and be loved."

"I know that."

"Why would anyone want to hurt him?"

"There are a lot of bad people in the world, Renny. You're a cop, a Canadian cop, but a cop's a cop. Here or Chicago, you still see a lot of nasty stuff go down."

"Still, it's such a shock when it happens to someone you know."

Ray patted his friend's shoulder, wondering if Renny was up to answering more questions, and figuring he had to ask. "Look, this Howard Watson guy, did he have a sheet?"

"A sheet?"

"A rap sheet, a list of arrests and convictions?"

"As a matter of fact he did, yes." Renny stared at him a long moment before he asked, "How did you know that?"

"I think I met him. The day Peter left, he had some guy named Howard drive him to the airport."

Renny swallowed hard and sat back, working to compose himself. "Do you really think it's the same man?"

"Blond, about 6'2", 200 pounds? Probably has arrests for solicitation or drugs?"

"Dear lord, Ray, that's him. That's exactly the person they're looking for in connection with Peter's death. Do you think –"

Ray squeezed his friend's arm again, keeping his voice even and calm. "Don't jump to conclusions, Renny. There might not be any connection."

"But why would Peter have any association with a man like that?"

In his head, Ray thought he knew the reason. Howard looked a lot like Renny if you dressed him up like street meat and gave him a couple of decades of rough living. Peter wanted the real thing, but settled for a cheap copy. Out loud he said, "He was lonely, I guess."

"Lonely? Oh dear god." The waterworks started again and all Ray could do was just hold Renny, hoping like hell his cop instinct about what happened was totally wrong.

By the time Ben got home, Renny was asleep in their bed with Dief lying beside him, keeping a close watch. Ray was making tea when Ben walked inside. "What's going on, Ray. Why is Renny's car outside?"

Ray put a finger to his lips. "Shush. I just got him to sleep."

Surprised, Ben put down the bakery box he was carrying and stepped to the bedroom door. He took in the scene and then walked to stand right next to Ray. He whispered, "What's happened? Has he had a fight with Stevie?"

"Peter's dead."

Ben straightened, his voice tight. "Oh, dear lord. You're certain?"

"Pretty much. I don't know all the details yet, but I was hoping you could call Hathaway and find out. The Chicago PD sent a report up this way about a local and that's how Renny got the news."

"Certainly I'll call. Poor Renny. Despite his life with Stevie, I fear he had unresolved issues about his relationship with Peter."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

"Have you called Stevie yet, let him know Renny's here with us?"

"Not yet. I thought I'd let you do that."

Nodding, not complaining about being given the dirty job of breaking the bad news, Ben pulled out his cell phone and made the call to the Inspector first. Listening to one side of the conversation, Ray pretty much pieced together the picture and it wasn't pretty.

"Thank you, Inspector. I appreciate that."

When he hung up, Ben slumped down at the table and Ray gave him a cup of tea. Ben rubbed his forehead as he recounted the story, his voice strained. "Peter was murdered, bludgeoned to death in his own bed early Thursday morning. They suspect this Howard Watson of killing him and then robbing his house of jewelry, cash, and apparently one of his cars."

"One of his cars? Did he take the Goat?"

"No, he apparently took the newer model, his Explorer. This Watson's from here in Yellowknife, so they're thinking he might return here. It's possible he'll make a local connection to evade capture. He's wanted for questioning as a person of interest, but at the moment, he's the only suspect."

"I was afraid of that."

"What a horrid thing, Ray. How can people be so wicked?"

"I wish I knew. Peter didn’t deserve that."

"No one does."

Ray met Ben's troubled gaze and nodded in agreement. He reached out and took Ben's hand, lacing their fingers together, and then squeezing. "He's a mess, Ben. You should call Stevie."

"Yes, of course."

When he made no move to call, Ray asked, "You okay?"

"Not really, no. The news is rather shocking."

"Yeah, I know. It's hit Renny pretty hard."

Ben studied him for a long moment. "And what about you, Ray? You and Peter spent time together." Ben paused before he added, "He kissed you, Ray. Though you spurned his advances, you and he were still friends with a lot in common. Now he's dead. How do you feel about that?"

Still holding Ben's hand, Ray took a deep breath, thinking back over those troubled days during Peter's visit. "I feel bad. I mean, I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen."

"What do you mean, you tried to warn him?"

Ray remembered he hadn't told Ben about Howard. "I think I need to make a statement."

"A statement? About what?"

"I think I saw this Watson guy with Peter the day he left. Hell, for all I know the scumbag flew back to Chicago with him then. It'd follow Peter's pattern."

"Peter's pattern? I don't understand."

"Meet a guy, get involved, then when it got serious, cheat on him and then drop him. Maybe this Howard person didn't want to get dumped and played like the others."

"What are you talking about, Ray? Did Peter tell you about men he'd been with other than Renny?"

Uneasy, not sure if he should break the confidence about what had happened between Chris and Peter, Ray hedged. "Let's just call it a hunch for now."

"A hunch?"

"Yeah, for now."

Not really satisfied, but not pushing it, Ben nodded. "Very well, but first thing in the morning, you have to go in and tell the Inspector what you know about all this."

Ray sure didn't look forward to that conversation, but knew from experience that even little bits could all add up to help catch and convict a killer. If Howard was the one who murdered Peter, he wanted to do anything he could to hang his ass. "Sure. I can do that."

"Meanwhile, I should call Stevie. He's probably worried sick."

"While you do that, I'm going to go sit with Renny just in case he wakes up."

"Thank you, Ray."

"For what?"

"For being there for Renny."

Ray cocked his head sideways, puzzled by the comment. "Why wouldn't I be there? He's my friend."

"True, but he seems to respond to you in emotional times better than he does to me."

"Well, yeah, but that's because he still thinks of you like the Queen."

"The Queen?"

"Yeah, you know, all powerful and shit, the guy in charge, his hero, the guy who can run interference between him and Thatcher. Me, I'm just the guy from Chicago that used to steal his uniform and tease him about curling. We're buddies, him and me."

Ben smiled at him fondly, nodding in understanding. "Yes, you are, Ray, buddies that is."

Ray motioned at the phone in Ben's hand. "Make the call."

As Ben punched in the numbers, Ray went into the bedroom and sat in the wooden rocker by the bed. He watched the slow rise and fall of Renny's chest, his face still blotchy and swollen from the shock. His head down on his paws, Dief whimpered and Ray nodded with a whisper. "Yeah, I know. He's hurting, but he'll be okay. He's got us and he's got Stevie now."

Ray never knew if Dief really understood all that he or Ben said, but he sure as hell seemed to. Wolf eyes locked with his as if he got every single word, understood deep down where it really counted. Then Dief carefully inched a little closer to Renny and rested his head on the sleeping man's chest.

Later, after Stevie had come and gone, taking Renny home, Ray sat in front of the fire just staring at the flames. Life and death, two sides of the same coin, it was a real brain buster if he thought about it too hard. A guy never knew when his number would come up, when he'd have his last chance to get it right. Peter was fucked up, but he sure as hell didn't deserve to be beaten to death and robbed. The more he thought about it, the more Ray wished he was still a cop so he could hunt down the maggot who'd done something so rotten to his friend. He'd bury the guy in a prison cell so deep, he never see sunlight again. Asshole.

"Ray, are you all right?"

"Sure. You?"

"Not entirely, no. Death is always unsettling."

"Yeah, I get that."

Ben sat down beside him, not actually touching, but close enough. "You look tired."

Ray turned his head and really looked at Ben for the first time since he got home. "You, too. How was your meeting?"

"A bit stressful."

"Yeah?"

"I can't give details, but some people live in very difficult situations."

"You?"

"Me, what?"

"You one of those people? Is your life difficult because of me?"

Ben sighed and scooted in closer, dropping his head to Ray's shoulder. "You're the best part of my life, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I guess."

Ben caressed Ray's face, staring into his eyes. He spoke softly, his breath warm against Ray's skin. "I love you more than anyone and anything. You're not perfect, but neither am I. We're working on our problems, we communicate, and we show our love. Some people never have that. We're very lucky men, you and I."

Ray answered him with a kiss, soft and easy, his tongue teasing Ben's. Then he rested forehead to forehead as he whispered, "I'm the luckiest man on the planet, that's a fact."

They kissed again, this time a little harder, tongues wrestling, Ben moaning a chant of Rays into his mouth. Grabbing the sides of Ben's head with both hands, Ray pushed him back. "Let's go to bed."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Early the next morning while Ben showered, Ray punched in Chris's number and waited. He hated making the call, but he needed to tell Chris about Peter, the sooner, the better. A sleepy Eddie answered the phone. "Yeah?"

"It's Ray. Is Chris there?"

"Ray? Is everything okay?"

"I need to talk to Chris."

"Sure, okay. Hold on."

After a few seconds, Chris came on the line. "What's going on?"

"Peter's been killed."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Renny's a mess. Anyway, I have to make a statement this morning and your name might come up."

"Why's that?"

"They think the guy who killed him is from around here. I'm figuring Peter took him back with him, wined and dined him, and then pulled the same routine he did with you. Only this time the guy didn't stand for getting cheated on and dumped."

"You know that for a fact?"

"No, but I have to make a statement and it's a possibility, something they need to consider when they look at motive."

Ray sat at the kitchen table and waited several long moments before Chris answered, "Look, you say what you have to say to catch the bastard."

"Okay. I just wanted to give you a heads up in case the Mounties come knocking."

"I appreciate that." Chris paused before he asked, "How'd he die?"

Ray pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long, slow breath, working hard to avoid visualizing the scene. After years on the force, he'd worked too many murders not to know what it probably looked and smelled like when the officers showed up. It would've been bloody as hell, bits of brain and skin everywhere, red on the sheets, on the walls. It would've reeked of piss and shit, too, most likely. Ray shuddered and shut down the rush of mental pictures, his voice tight. "Beaten to death and robbed."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, I know. It's rough."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Ray took a shot. "You know a guy named Howard Watson?"

"Sure. He's local hustler and drug dealer. Why?"

"They think he's the one who did it."

"I can't believe that. Even Peter wasn't that stupid. Watson's a thug, a real waste of flesh."

"Yeah, well, they were together that last night Peter was here."

"You're sure about that?"

"Watson drove him to the airport."

"You're kidding. Watson's a fucking lowlife. Peter wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole, not the Peter I knew."

"Things change. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks, Ray. I appreciate that. What about you? How are you doing?"

"I just hope they catch the fucker."

"Same here. Keep me in the loop, okay?"

"Sure." Ray swallowed his pride before he added, "About the other night, thanks for bringing me home."

"You'd do it for me if I needed it, right?"

The response surprised him. He'd expected a lecture, not a buddy kind of thing. "You going to need it?"

"I hope not. Look, I have to go. Eddie's about ready to have a breakdown wanting to know what's going on. Later."

"Later." Ray hung up the phone, wishing like hell life didn't have to include a guy's friends being killed.

Inspector Hathaway shut off the recorder. "I appreciate you coming in like this, Ray, giving a statement. I think some of what you've told us could be very useful."

Ben sat to the side, quietly watching as Ray shrugged. "It's the least I could do. Any leads yet?"

"Well, now that we know for sure that Pulaski and Watson met here, I'll have someone check the airport, see if they went to Chicago at the same time."

Ray frowned. "You leading the investigation on this end?"

"Actually, I was going to turn that over to Constable Fraser, if he's so inclined. I know it's his day off, but –"

Sitting up straight, suddenly at attention, Ben nodded. "I'd very much appreciate that opportunity, sir."

"Normally, I'd probably keep anyone who knew the victim off the case, but I'd like to see what we can find out as quickly as possible. The brunt of the investigation will be handled by the Chicago PD, of course, but we need to assist as much as we can, especially if Watson should return to town. Your experience with working with the Americans could be very helpful in coordinating our efforts."

Ben nodded. "I'll check the flight manifest straight away. I'd also suggest we check Watson's local associates, to see if they've been contacted."

Hathaway slid a folder in Fraser's direction. "I was thinking the same thing, Constable. Watson's got no immediate family, but he's got one associate that I'd recommend for consideration, a Victor Runyon. They've been arrested together on several occasions. I've already sent a man out to his address to set up surveillance. You should follow up on that as soon as you've checked with the airport."

"Indeed."

Ray fisted his hands together. The energy of having a new case vibrated in the room, the start of the chase, only this time he was stuck on the sidelines. "What can I do to help?"

Hathaway shook his head. "Officially, nothing. However, if you should think of anything else, please come back in and amend your statement."

"You sure there's nothing else?"

"I'm sorry, Ray, but there's no way you can be part of this other than as a witness." Hathaway hesitated, didn't dismiss Fraser or Ray. Instead, he said, "I know Watson. He's been arrested six times in the last five years since I've been here, and that's just the tip of the proverbial iceberg as it were. He's only served a few months at a time on any of those offences. However, he never struck me as particularly malicious. I have to confess to being more than a little shocked that this happened, that he would escalate to that level of violence. I hate to say it, but I think our system might need some fine tuning."

Ray knew all too well how the justice system let the crooks out a lot more often than it kept them locked up. Good guys, bad guys, Canada or Chicago, that tune never sounded all that different, no matter where a guy lived. "Tell me about it."

Hathaway met his eyes and studied him a moment before he spoke. "We'll get this scoundrel, Ray. There's no place he can hide, not in Yellowknife or anywhere in Canada. If he returns here, we'll find him and, if he's the one who killed your friend, he'll pay for what he's done."

Ben chimed in. "I should get started right away, sir."

"You're sure you don't mind working on your day off?"

"Not in the least."

"Good man. I thought as much." Hathaway stood up. "I'll leave you to it then."

As soon as Hathaway left, Ben turned to Ray. "We'll find him, Ray."

"I know." Ray touched Ben's face, his heart all tight and achy. "Look, you be careful. If he's killed once, he won't worry about doing it again."

"I'll be very careful. I promise."

"Listen, I'll go pick up the truck and then go back home. You call me just as soon as you know anything. Got it?"

"I've got it, yes."

Ben kissed him quickly and left, folder in hand, on the trail of another killer. The back of Ray's neck buzzed and his gun hand twitched. It didn't seem right not to be working the case with Ben, not to be by his side bringing down the bad guys. Guess it was just one more thing he had to swallow about the changes in his life. Ben remained the hero and Ray got to be the sidekick stuck standing around waiting to see what the fuck happened next. Hell, he didn't even have Dief to bitch about it with because Ben took the wolf along for the ride.

Licking his chapped lips, Ray wondered where Watson hung out, what dives he might frequent. It couldn't hurt to check out a few places on his own, give Ben a little help without him knowing about it. As he headed out to get his truck back from Cal, Ray figured Yellowknife couldn't be any worse than Chicago and he'd held his own there a long time before Ben came along. All he had to do was walk in, do a little undercover work, and slip back out before anyone caught on. If he was lucky, he'd get a lead on Watson. If not, he'd go home empty-handed, no harm done, nobody the wiser.

Cal's place was closed on Sundays, but Ray heard music blasting from inside. He shielded his eyes from the glare and peeked in through the glass door front. Randy, Cal's oldest son, sat at the computer listening to some rock band Ray had never heard of. He couldn't understand a word they were singing and wondered if that meant that he'd finally joined the older generation. Ray decided to think about that later when his ears stopped bleeding.

Ray had his own key to get inside, but he banged on the door instead and got the kid's attention. Randy turned around and smiled, turning down the music before he got up to get the door. "Hey, Ray. My dad said you'd probably drop by sometime today."

"He's not in the back doing some printing?"

"Not this morning. Rusty's got a cold and Mom wanted him to stay home for a change to help out. My little brothers can be a handful, the little brats."

"Bet you were a brat once or twice."

"Still can be." Randy went behind the counter and got Ray's keys from under the register. "Dad said to give these to you if you dropped by."

Ray caught and bounced the keys in his hand, wondering if Cal's staying home was a way out of seeing him face-to-face. "So, your dad say anything about me leaving the truck parked out back?"

"No. Why?"

"I was just wondering, that's all. Guess I'll get out of your hair. Tell your dad thanks for keeping the keys warm."

"Not a problem." Before Ray took off Randy said, "Dad did tell me you got a book deal. Way to go, Ray."

Cheeks heated, Ray shrugged, still a little shy about the whole success business. "Thanks. I couldn't have done it without your dad."

"Yeah, the old man's pretty cool. Just don't tell him I said that. It might go to his head or something, ruin the whole teen angst thing we've got goin' on."

Ray snorted in amusement. The kid was okay, had a good attitude. He was the kind of kid that really bolstered a guy's hopes for the future. "Your secret's safe."

"Look, Ray, I've been thinking. If you're going to be published, you need to get yourself a website."

"A website?"

"Yeah, you know, a place online where people can order your book or your prints. Anybody who sells anything has one nowadays."

Ray shook his head. "Kid, I can hardly turn on a computer, much less put up a website."

"That's the best part. I can do it. I'd do it for a good price, too, next to nothing, really. Did you know I was saving to go to Europe next summer?"

"Yeah, I heard that." Ray had to grin at the kid's gumption. Bet he'd make a good salesman when he grew up. "So, how much is next to nothin' going for these days?"

"Depends on if you want bare bones or bells and whistles."

"Bare bones, nothing fancy."

"About $200, I guess. I figure ten hours at $20 would cover it. I mean, I've got a couple of good templates to use and I've got a server already. You could use the same one Dad uses for his stuff and the shop. It really wouldn't be that hard. Most of your pictures are digitalized already and on a disk, and all I'd have to do is upload –"

Ray held up a hand, convinced the kid knew his stuff. "Okay, okay, enough of the geek talk. Go ahead and set it up. You want a check ahead of time or what?"

"Pay me after it's done and you've okayed it. We'll have to decide how to deal with orders and stuff like that, too." Randy rubbed his hands together. "This is great. I could start working on it this afternoon. You're going to love it, Ray. I promise."

"I'm sure it'll be great, kid."

"Who you calling kid? I'm almost as tall as you are."

"In your dreams."

"Well, in a couple of years, I will be. In the meantime, it looks like snow out. You might want to start up the truck, make sure the battery's not dead. I've got some cables if we need to jump it. The forecast called for a couple of inches of snow, too, might even get ice. Ice is way worse than snow."

"That's a fact. I'll talk to you later."

"Sure thing. Man, this is going to be great."

As Ray walked out to his truck, he glanced back over his shoulder to see the teenager banging on his computer keys, a huge grin on his face. Cal was a lucky guy. He had sons, a whole houseful, good kids, too, every one of them. Ray swallowed down his own jealousy and climbed in behind the wheel. He cranked the engine and it fired up with only a couple of tries. Cal must have started it a few times since he left it. Thankful he didn't have to jump the battery, he headed back home to change. He couldn't go undercover in Yellowknife's underbelly dressed like a good guy.

Thanks to the Yellowknife blue laws, most of the bars closed on Sunday, but Ray knew for a fact that several had backdoor policies, sort of an underground business where a guy could get a drink, get laid, get just about anything he wanted, anytime he wanted, no questions asked. Yellowknife might be a long way from Chicago, but it really wasn't that much different, not when it came to the nitty gritty of being a lowlife. There were always people who catered to the vices of others, and he figured if Watson came to town, he'd probably make a pit stop at one of the raunchiest places in town, Strange Range. That was the number one hotspot to score, even on the Sabbath.

From everything he'd heard, Ray was glad it wasn't in Ben's regular patrol area. Sometimes half the force could be called out on a Saturday night just to do a round up after fights broke out and the drunks got disorderly. It sounded just like the kind of place a guy like Watson would hang out.

Driving back to the cabin, Ray thought about how he should dress, how he should approach the problem of slipping in under the radar. His heart pumped a little faster, the idea of doing cop work again even on the sly jazzing him up. He'd missed that feeling, that hyper-alertness he got right before a big job.

He was nearly home when his phone rang. It was kind of a wimpy sound compared to Ben's "O', Canada", but it still it got the job done. He clicked the cell phone on to hear Ben's voice broken with static. "Ray, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I can hardly hear you."

"I think we've got a bad connection."

"Then I should talk quickly. Watson's been si…we're going to…"

Ray shook the phone hard and then hit it on the dash a few times before he said, "You're breaking up. Watson's been what? Say that again."

"He's been sighted. We're picking up Runyon."

"That's good. Let me know what you find out."

"I will. Where are you?"

Ray pulled into their driveway, still holding the phone to his ear and frowning. "That's queer."

"What?"

"Did we leave the lights on?"

"Lights? What about the lights?"

"Did we leave them on when we left this morning?"

"Ray…Ray…I can't…"

The phone clicked off as the signal went dead. Ray shook the phone again, cursing as he tossed the piece of junk on the seat. Damn battery needed charging again. He should've done that last night like Ben told him, but he'd been too busy doing Ben to worry about cell phones. Maybe he should take Randy up on a brand new one anyway, one that held a charge longer than a couple of hours and wasn't as big as an old shoe or something.

As he turned off the engine, Ray stared at the cabin again and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his skin all goosebumps. Something wasn't right. First off, he was pretty damn sure Ben had turned off the lights and he knew for a fact that he'd put out the fire before heading into town that morning. So why were the lights on now and smoke coming out of the chimney? There was nobody parked in the drive, so that ruled out most of the people he knew dropping by for an unannounced visit and making themselves at home. Mimi wouldn't have brought Jeremy out to stay without asking first, so it wasn't him. Maybe a hunter got lost and needed to get warmed up or something.

Getting out of the truck, he shut the door softly and sneaked around to the back window to check out what was going on inside. As he stood on his tiptoes to look through the glass, snow crunched behind him. Before he could turn, a voice snarled. "Don't move or I'll blow your fucking head off. Now, put your hands behind your head."

Blood running cold, Ray recognized the voice, knew he was in a shitload of trouble. Swallowing hard, drawing on every ounce of control he could muster, he stayed cool and did exactly what he was told.

As soon as he'd followed orders, the voice barked, "Turn around. Slow, no sudden moves."

When he did, Howard Watson stood there holding Ben's hunting rifle just a few inches away from Ray's face. Ray kept his voice steady and asked, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Shut up. Let's get inside before we freeze our asses off, and no shit or you're dead. I mean it."

"Sure, sure, no problem."

As they walked inside, Ray's mind raced. Watson looked like shit, all bruised up and acting like he hadn't had a fix in way too long. Dealing with a killer was one thing. Handling a junkie without junk, a whole different situation. He'd seen crazy eyes like that before, too many times, and knew getting out alive was a crap shoot. Ray couldn't fuck this up, couldn't make one mistake or he was history.

Watson motioned for him to sit down at the kitchen table. "Put your hands palms down. I want to see them. No funny business, you hear me?"

Ray decided to play it smart by playing it dumb. "What's going on, Howard? I don't have much money on me and there's not much to steal, but take it, take what you want."

"I'm not here to steal anything, man."

"Yeah, so what'd I ever do to you? Why the gun?"

Watson frowned, confused. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"About me, about what happened."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Last time I saw you, you were taking a friend to the airport."

"You're lying. I know you know. Cops are out looking for me."

"For what?"

Frustrated and sweating like crazy, Watson shook the gun at him. "Don't fucking lie to me, fucker! You're with the Mountie guy. You used to be a cop. They're bound to have called about me already."

Ray tried to keep Watson from getting too rattled by staying calm, cool, and collected. "Called about what?"

Watson pulled off Ray's knit watch cap and threw on the floor. He growled, "Don't fuck with me, man. Where's the Mountie?"

"He's in town visiting a friend. I just came home to change. We're supposed to go out to dinner later." Ray saw the flicker of doubt, saw that the guy might be falling for it. "Look, I don’t know what kind of trouble you're in, but maybe I can help. Just put the gun down and let's talk."

"Forget about it. Don't try that shit with me. Cops are all over the place. They picked up Vic. He's probably spilling his guts right now. He's such a weak asshole. I should never have come back here. I could be in L.A. right now, free and clear. They'd never find me there. Shit. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Who's Vic?"

"Like you don't know."

"I swear, I have no clue what you're talking about." Ray paused, and then lowered his voice a little. "Listen, no offence, but you're looking a little ragged there, buddy. Maybe you need something to calm down, help you think straight."

Watson paced a few times, sweat rolling down his face, both hands on the gun, but shaky. "I tried to get something, but everybody's been warned off. They know the cops are after me. I couldn't score."

"Maybe I could help."

Watson stopped pacing and stepped over to the table. "How? What ya got?"

"Oxycotin."

"Fuck. You're kidding."

"My partner has a bottle for his shoulder. It's practically full. A couple of those babies could take the edge off."

"Don't fuck with me, man. I checked out the medicine cabinet when I got here. There was nothing there."

"Yeah, well, that's because he doesn't keep it there."

Watson studied him for a moment and then used the gun to motion for Ray to get up. "I want those pills. Where are they?"

Ray kept both hands up as he spoke. "Listen, calm down, okay? The pills are in his spare boots. Just don't let that thing go off. It's got a hair trigger."

"Just shut up and get me those fucking pills, asshole."

Ray went into the bedroom, Watson shadowing his every move. He leaned over and got Ben's left boot. He reached inside, his hand wrapping around the small boot gun Ben kept there for emergencies. Before he could get it, Watson snapped. "Wait! Take your hand out, slowly. I'll get them, not you."

Reluctantly, Ray left the gun where it was and came up empty-handed. "Sorry. They're not there. Must be the other boot."

Keeping his eyes on Ray the whole time, Watson picked up the right boot in a hurry, and slid his hand in. He drew out the bottle of pills, smiling. "Oh, yeah. These ought to help."

Disappointed he didn't get a chance with the gun, Ray decided that at least if the guy took enough pills, that'd slow his reflexes enough to give Ray a chance later on. Watson nudged him with the tip of the barrel. "Come on. Back to the kitchen."

Sitting at the table again, Ray watched for any opportunity to take the guy. Unfortunately, even messed up, Watson was a cagey son of a bitch who had a good forty or fifty pounds on him. Watson got some water and opened the container. He took out five of the pills and washed them down in a hurry. The normal dosage for Ben was one every eight to twelve hours. Ray figured that when those hit Watson's system, he'd get his chance to get the gun.

"So, you going to tell me what the fuck's going on? Why are you acting like some maniac, holding a gun on a guy you hardly know?"

Watson stared at him again, his eyes still wild and a lot crazy. He paced for several more minutes, saying nothing. Finally, Ray asked him again before Watson snapped, "You really don’t know?"

"I really don't know." Hell, Ray said it so convincingly that he almost believed it himself. "Why are the cops after you and what the fuck does any of this have to do with me?"

"The cops think I killed Peter."

Ray's eyes widened for effect. "Peter's dead? Really? Son of a bitch. What the hell happened?"

"Man, you really didn't know. I can't believe that. How could you fucking not know? I thought he was supposed to be your friend or something. He sure as hell talked like you two were tight."

"He was just a friend of a friend, not a lifelong buddy or anything. Besides, why would I know anything about what happens in Chicago? That's where it happened, right, Chicago?"

Watson shook his head, confused, like his brains were scrambled. "Yeah, Thursday."

"Well, there you go. It's a long way from there to here. So, what happened? Why would the police think you did anything?"

"Because I'm stupid, that's why."

"Come on, Howard, tell me what went down."

Ray saw the pills were slowly taking effect. Howard rubbed his face several times, his muscles more relaxed and his eyes just a bit more glazed over. His words slurred, too, like his tongue didn't quite work right with his lips. Putting the rifle on the counter, Howard leaned back. "Man, that's some powerful shit."

"What? The pills?"

"Yeah. Feels good, takes the edge off a little bit, you know, until I can get something better."

"I'll bet. Why don't you sit down? We'll talk about what's going on."

"Oh, you'd like that, I'll bet. I know cops like you, pretend like you give a shit and then you fuck a guy over. Not going to happen."

"I just want to know what's going on, that's all."

"I don't get it. Peter talked about you all the time, Ray this and Ray that. You act like the thing between you two was no big deal."

"Because it wasn't. Like I said, he was a friend of a friend. They broke up and he stayed with me a few days, end of story."

"Not to hear him tell it. It got fucking old, like everything I did wasn't good enough. He had a thing for you, too. Even had pictures of you on the wall. I got sick of hearing about how good you were, about how you were going to be a big name artist some day. Fuck that shit." Watson stopped for a moment and studied Ray carefully before he asked, "You two ever fuck?"

"No. Of course not."

"Never?"

"It wasn't like that. He used to be with a friend of mine, that's all, I swear."

"That was the Renny guy, right, the Mountie?"

"Yeah."

Watson laughed deep in his throat and it made Ray's skin crawl. "Yeah, he talked about him, too, but not like he did you. You know what the fucker did?"

"What?"

"Had me make believe I was that Mountie guy sometimes. Sometimes he'd make me be you. Funny, he never seemed to want me to just be me. What the fuck was that all about?"

Ray really, really didn't want to think about what went on inside Peter's twisted brain before he checked out. So, he kept it simple. "You've got me. Some people, huh?"

"Anyway, I did what he wanted. We were getting along fine. He bought me all kinds of cool shit and clothes, let me have the Explorer. I mean, we went out on the town, and I'm telling you, Chicago can kick it and kick it fucking hard, man."

"Yeah, I know."

Watson smiled a dirty grin, obviously a whole lot more relaxed than before. "I'll bet you do. I'll bet you're really hot in bed, too."

Ray ignored the creepy crawlies he got when Watson stared at him like that. He couldn't afford to freak out now, not when he was just a few inches from grabbing the gun and taking charge. "I haven't had too many complaints."

"Maybe I'll have to find out for myself."

Ray's eyes narrowed, his hands balled into fists on the table. "You're going to have to shoot me first."

Watson stopped smiling, his lips drawn into a thin line. "You think you're too good for me?"

Ray hesitated, not sure how far he could push the guy, but he kept his game face up. "Yeah, that's exactly what I think. Now, stop talking like an asshole and tell me about what happened with Peter."

The tough talk worked and Watson lost the hustler spiel. He looked off to the side as if he were seeing the past. Witnesses did that all the time when they told a story, especially a really bad one. "We were having a pretty good time together, Peter and me, but then he started acting all crazy. He started bringing guys home, wanted three-ways. What the fuck, eh? I wasn't good enough to fuck one-on-one anymore? Then he started staying out all night without me, coming home stinking of other guys. I knew it was just a matter of time before he kicked my ass out."

"And you got pissed off, right?"

Watson's head came up, like he just remembered Ray was in the room. "Yeah, I did. I mean, he made promises, you know, big promises."

"Like what?"

"Like I'd never have to work the streets again, that he'd get me all the stuff I needed, no more fucking to score. But he was just like the rest of the big talkers in my life, a fucking liar."

"Is that why you killed him?"

Watson shook his head, his eyes all glassy. "I didn't, I mean, not like that, not on purpose. It was self-defense."

"How's that?"

"He was high on something, X or crystal, maybe. I don’t know for sure. Anyway, he wanted to fuck and fuck, and, man, a guy can only fuck so much, you know? So, when I said no, he got crazy, calling me names and pushing me around." Watson pointed at a swollen bruise on the side of his forehead. "He hit me hard with something, too, I don't even know what. I mean, I was so pissed, I don't even remember what happened next." Watson crossed his arms around his chest, his voice tight. "Fucker treated me like shit and tried to kill me. What the fuck was I supposed to do, let him do it just because he was rich and I'm not?"

Ray bit his lower lip, not mentioning the whole business about robbing the place blind before Watson took off on the run. Instead, Ray went along with the guy, trying to figure out how many seconds it would take to get up and snatch the rifle off the counter. "Look, if that's how it went down, you should turn yourself in. The autopsy will say if he was on drugs or not. You show them your bruises and the evidence should support your story."

"I'm just a hustler. Nobody's going to believe me."

"Look, the cops see the facts, work the case. Fuck politics. You just have to give them a chance to do the job. You running like that, coming back here. That's bad news. It makes you look guilty as sin, like you did it on purpose or something."

"I wasn't going to stick around and let the cops hang me out to dry. Not going to happen, man."

"Okay, okay, I get that. You're scared. Anybody would be."

"You bet your ass."

"But, Watson, what's any of this got to do with me? Even if we can prove you killed Peter in self-defense, you holding me at gunpoint only makes you look like the bad guy, not Peter."

Watson's eyes narrowed and got darker as he stared at Ray. "You saying you believe me?"

"I don't have any reason not to. I mean, I knew Peter was fucked up and doing dangerous shit. It doesn't surprise me that he snapped."

"You're not just saying that to win me over?"

"What we have to do, is get you a good lawyer, a guy who can fix this, keep you out of prison and shit. But to do that, you've got to trust me and put the gun down."

Watson studied Ray for several more moments before he spoke again, the words just barely above a whisper. "I'm really tired of lies and shit, man."

"Look, I know a lawyer I could call. He can be here in no time. We'll figure out what to do."

"Yeah? You'd do that for me even though Peter was your friend?"

"If it was self-defense, then you shouldn't have to go to prison for that."

Watson picked up the rifle and came to stand closer to Ray. Instead of putting the gun on the table, he put the barrel's tip right against the side of Ray's head. His voice took on an edge, husky and pissed. "You're good, man, really good. You almost had me."

"Listen, I'm serious. I want to help."

Ray saw Watson's finger tighten on the trigger. Fear choked his words as he pleaded, "Come on, don't do this. I'm trying to be your friend here."

"You called me Watson. I never told you my last name and Peter never knew it before Chicago."

Fuck. Before Watson blew his head off, Ray lunged up and out of the chair. He grabbed the gun with both hands and ripped it away from his attacker, but he couldn’t hold on to it. While it clattered to the floor, he jabbed Watson's lower chin with his elbow. The guy was a lot bigger, but Ray threw all his weight into a right punch and rocked Watson back on his heels. Blows flew back and forth, fists connecting against bone and soft tissue. Knocked down hard to his knees, Ray landed near the rifle. Grabbing it up, he rolled onto his back and without even aiming, pulled the trigger.

Watson stilled like he'd been hammered, his face frozen in shock. Like in one of those bad movies where everything slows down, the hole in his chest filled with blood as he lurched and fell forward across Ray's body. The world stank of shit and gunpowder as Watson groaned out his last breath, his heart stopped forever.

Ray closed his eyes, trapped beneath the dead man's weight. His head and chest ached from the beating as his eyes filled with tears. He'd never been so grateful for quick reflexes in his life. Who knew boxing would come in so handy when it came to saving a guy's life?

Shouts came from the doorway, Ben's voice the loudest. "Ray? Dear god, Ray!"

He opened his eyes and Ben's face swam into focus. Ray took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "I’m okay."

"Thank god."

"Get this son of a bitch off me."

Ben did just that, rolling the body over to the side. He placed a hand over Ray's chest. "Stay still. We need to check your injuries."

"I’m not hurt. It's his blood."

"You're sure?"

Ray groaned, his heart still racing, touching one hand to his bloody lip before capturing Ben's cheek. "I am now."

As it turned out, it wasn't all Watson's blood. Ray tried to sit up on his own, but he couldn't, not without passing out. He shook too hard and his teeth chattered when he talked. "Why's it so fucking cold?"

Ben covered him with a wool blanket, kneeling beside him. "You're in shock, Ray. You need medical attention. There's an ambulance outside."

Panic screamed inside his head. The last thing he wanted was more doctors poking around and shit. "I hate hospitals."

"I know." Ben took Ray's hand and squeezed it reassuringly, but Ray barely felt it and could hardly see Ben at all. It was so fucking cold, his eyeballs hurt. Ben touched his face with his free hand. "I'll be right there with you, Ray. You won't be alone."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Still holding on for dear life, the world got hazy and dark around the edges. Weird things happened, lights flashing and sirens blaring all out of whack. Ray floated around as they lifted him onto the gurney and rolled him out to the ambulance. The whole time, Ray focused on Ben, saw his face, saw him watching every move, keeping watch.

Ray must have slipped away for a little bit because the next thing he knew strangers dressed in blue were cutting off his clothes in the ER. Egan stood by barking out orders, talking gibberish that made no fucking sense. Ray's head hurt like a son of a bitch and he couldn't see Ben. He croaked, "Ben?"

Dr. Egan moved in closer so that Ray saw him clearly. The old man looked like shit, too, almost as bad as that time after Ben had been shot. "He's here, Ray. He has to wait outside while we assess the damage."

"I'm not hurt, not that bad anyway. I've been hurt lots worse than this. Why do I feel like shit?"

"You've got cuts and bruises, possibly a concussion, but mainly you're in shock."

"And that's making me freeze, right?"

"Yes. We've started an IV to help stabilize that. You should feel warmer shortly."

The reality of the whole situation hit Ray like a ton of ice. "I killed a guy."

Egan's face softened and he touched Ray's shoulder, fingers squeezing to let Ray know he was right there. "Yes, but you're safe now."

Nausea rolled over him and Ray panicked again. "I feel sick."

Egan caught on fast and rolled Ray on his side so he could puke. Not much came up, but enough to stink up the place and make a mess. When he finished heaving, Ray apologized. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Happens all the time."

A nurse cleaned him up, wiping his face and the area quick and easy like she'd done it too many times to count. Naked and washed, covered with a fresh sheet and blankets, Ray lay on the exam table on his side. He drew his knees up enough to keep his belly from aching so much. An IV ran in his left hand and pinched the skin. He must've drifted off again because Egan's hand rested on his shoulder to get his attention. "I'll X-ray for a concussion just to be safe, but I think you're okay. A few cuts to suture and some bruises. I'm more worried about the shock. Your pressure dropped out. It's coming back up, but slowly. You gave us a little scare there, Ray."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ray shuddered, his body all wound up and trembling. The slam of the rifle's recoil into his chest and Watson's face that last second right as the guy knew for sure his ticket had been punched kept replaying in his head. It was all too real, too much like he was caught again, helpless and afraid. "I can't make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

"My head. I can't stop seeing his face."

"That's perfectly normal. Just try to relax."

"I can't. It's like instant replay over and over."

"When your pressure's normal, I'll give you something to help, Ray. You need to rest, let your body catch up."

"Yeah?"

"It's going to be fine."

"I need Ben."

After a few moments, Egan whispered, "He's right here."

Ben's hand caressed Ray's face, his fingers spread and cupping his cheek. Ray didn't have to open his eyes, didn't have to see his face, to know Ben was there, protecting him, making sure no more crazy motherfuckers came out of the woodwork to hurt him again.

Ray woke up slowly, all groggy, his body checking in with fits and starts, achy, but finally warm again. He groaned as he stretched, his stomach more sore than he expected. Hearing Ben's worried voice cleared his head. "Ray?"

"I'm okay."

"Thank god."

Opening his eyes, Ray squinted at the bright light over the bed. "Turn that thing off." Ben clicked it off quickly so that room was mostly dark, just the light from the window and hallway filtering in. Feeling around, Ray found the button and cranked up the head of the bed before he asked, "Why am I still in the hospital?"

"Dr. Egan thought it best that you stay overnight for observation."

"So, what's the verdict?"

"Verdict?"

"Yeah, headwise. Is it cracked or not?"

"Thankfully, there's no concussion."

"What about Dief? Where's he?"

"Jeremy's wolf-sitting again. I thought it best for the moment."

"Yeah, probably." His face throbbed, so Ray touched his right cheek and found a wide bandage just under his eye. "Fuck. I've got stitches. Ow."

"You also have sutures in your chin and across the knuckles of your right hand, yes. There's rather extensive bruising to the stomach and chest and you're sporting a rather impressive black eye."

Ray fingered his swollen nose to check for damage. "At least my nose isn't broken."

Ben leaned against the raised rail of the bed and asked, "You remember what happened?"

"Like I could forget."

"You'll need to make a statement."

Ray met Ben's concerned gaze, suddenly pissed. "I know the drill. I was a cop, remember?"

"I didn't mean to suggest –"

"I know you didn't. Sorry, didn't mean to snap."

"It's all right. You've been through quite an ordeal."

"I didn't have a choice. I had to shoot him."

"I know that, Ray. It was obviously a case of self-defense."

Ray checked out the stitches in his right hand, his stomach all sick and sinking as he thought about what happened. "I don't even know why he was there."

"Apparently to exact revenge."

Ray looked at Ben like he was crazy. "Exact revenge? What for? What'd I do?"

"When we questioned his associate, Runyon, he told us that Watson had become obsessed with both you and Turnbull. I don't really understand his reasoning –"

"Because he was a nut."

"Apparently. According to Runyon, Watson took umbrage at the fact that Peter still had very strong feelings for you both. After he toyed with and killed you, he had planned to go after Renny."

"Toyed with? What the fuck does that mean? He wanted to mess with my head or something else?"

"I'm not really sure, Ray. It's really quite a convoluted tale of madness. I fear reasoning didn’t really factor into his plan. I'm so sorry you got caught up in it, but I’m glad you're safe."

"You know I'm getting really sick and tired of all this shit, performance arsonists, sadists, and just general wackos coming after our asses. I mean, what the fuck is that?"

"You have the right to be angry, Ray. There's no real explanation."

"I mean, I'm either the luckiest or the unluckiest son of a bitch on the planet."

Ben's brow wrinkled the way it did when Ray said shit he didn't get. "I don't understand, Ray."

"Well, think about it. Am I lucky that Watson came after me? No. But am I lucky to still be breathing? Damn straight. The guy was bugged out and crazy, ready to take me out. Same thing with all the other shit that's gone down. Sure it sucked that it happened, but I'm still here, alive and kicking. Luckiest guy, go figure."

"I see your point. I like to think of us as both very lucky." Ben's voice softened as he leaned in closer. "I'm very lucky, indeed, to still have you."

Ray ran his fingers through Ben's hair, not saying anything for several minutes, just enjoying the touch. Finally, he whispered. "I want to go home."

"I'm sorry, but we can't right away."

"They're still processing the scene?"

"They've completed that task, but I want to have the effected floorboards cleaned and refinished before we return."

Ray swallowed hard, the image of blood splatter flashing in his head. "I appreciate that."

"Stevie Garvey has taken on the job. We should be able to go home sometime tomorrow."

"Okay, I get that, but I still want out of here."

"As soon as Dr. Egan releases you, we can stay at Mimi's until the cabin's ready. In addition, you still have to make an official statement as soon as you feel up to it."

"I can do that."

"Are you sure? It doesn't have to be today. We could wait until tomorrow."

"No, I'm good. I want to get it over with."

"Understandably."

"Look, I’m sorry I wigged out like that."

"You had every reason to wig out, as it were."

"Fuck, it's not like I've never killed anybody before, right?"

"Killing someone, even one who threatens your life, is very traumatic, especially for someone with your sensibilities."

"My sensibilities?"

"You do take such events to heart, Ray, feeling guilt for situations for which you have little control."

Ray shut his eyes, fighting off the rising panic of losing it again. He had to keep it together, be tough. Fuck, he'd been a cop for years, seen lots of dead men and, hell, even dead children. In his mind, he relived the Biggs kid waving around the AK-47, seeing the boy fall, hearing the mother wailing in grief. He shuddered involuntarily, knowing there was nothing he could've done to stop that or to keep Watson alive, not if he wanted to keep walking the earth.

"Ray, are you all right?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"When I was a kid, I had this friend, Bernie Schwartz. He used to get a magnifying glass and burn ants."

"Why on earth would he do such a deliberately cruel thing?"

"I don't know. Lots of kids did shit like that, but I never could do it and it always used to bother me when he did. I just didn't like killing things, not even a bug. I mean, I'll swat a mosquito if it's biting, but I don't go out of my way to kill shit, you know? Hell, I used to catch the crickets that got in the bathtub and put them out the backdoor. And I told you about my dog, right, about how when it got hit by a car, I couldn't deal with it myself? Had to take it to the vet and get it a shot? I was fucked up for weeks after that. Killing and me, not a good mix, but somehow I'm good at it."

"You're not good at it, Ray, not in a sense that you find it in anyway gratifying. You've had to kill to survive and no one faults you for it except yourself."

"Biggs's mum might tell a different story."

"Ray, she's hardly an objective party about the death of her son, regardless of how he died. You've got no reason to feel guilty about Biggs or Watson."

"It still sucks."

"As long as you're alive, it can suck all it wants."

Ray opened his eyes in surprise and stared. "You said suck."

"You said suck."

"Yeah, but you never do."

"I'm just happy you're alive, Ray. If Watson had to die for that to happen, I'm not going to pretend to mourn his loss."

"Nobody's asking you to mourn anything. I'm just saying I'm getting sick and tired of having to kill people."

Using that Mountie voice, the one that said he meant business, Ben snapped, "I understand that, Ray. However, I hope that you understand that should the occasion arise where you're in a similar situation, I don't want you to hesitate to do whatever you need to do to survive."

His own anger eased up and Ray nodded. "I get that. Don't worry. I don't plan to let anybody blow my head off if I can stop it."

"Glad to hear it."

"Now, could you ring for room service or something, so we can get the hell out of here?"

"I'll see if I can find Dr. Egan."

As soon as Ben left, Ray wiggled his toes and then pulled his knees up, ignoring the dull pain in his belly. First stop after leaving, he'd go to the station and make his statement, say what had to be said and be done with it. Second stop, he needed to talk to Renny. He had some things to hash out and he didn't want his friend to hear the details about Peter from anybody else. Renny deserved that much. Plus, he had some questions of his own, questions that only Renny could answer.

Facing the hard questions and making a statement about Watson took several hours. Ray could've sacked out for the rest of the day, but he was determined to see Renny. They parked in front of the place Renny and Stevie shared a few miles out of town. It was a cabin similar to their own, only a little bigger and more modern with a full deck on the back. Ben reached over and squeezed Ray's shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this right now?"

"This can't wait. You okay with letting me talk to him alone?"

Ben had heard the whole deal, every nasty detail Ray had told about Watson's fucked up story. "I'm sure Renny would appreciate discretion in the telling of Peter's death. He'd be too embarrassed with my presence."

"At least come inside to wait. Just give us some time alone, okay?"

"I don't mind the cold, Ray. In fact, I prefer it at the moment. Take whatever time you need."

"All right then." Ray got out, walking stiffly, his injured muscles tightening up already.

The door flew open before he had a chance to knock. Renny's face paled as soon as he saw him. "Dear lord, Ray, come inside and sit down."

When Ray settled on the sofa in front of the fire, Renny asked, "Are you hurt badly?"

"I'll live."

"Where's Constable Fraser? Surely you didn't drive out alone."

"He's outside. Don't worry about him."

"But why on earth is he outside? I'll invite him in and fix us some tea."

"Later. Sit down, Ren. We have to talk."

"But –"

"Sit." Ray patted the cushion and Renny sat beside him, meek and obedient. Hands together in his lap, Renny refused to meet his gaze. "You heard about what happened with Watson?"

"Yes, of course. Fraser called. He said this Watson fellow nearly killed you, but you'd been forced to kill him instead." Renny shook his head, looking about as forlorn as a guy could look. "I just don't understand, Ray. How could all this have happened, Peter dead and you nearly murdered as well? I'm bewildered."

"Look, you might hear some things about what happened with Peter. The story is that Watson might have killed him in self-defense. I don't know for sure, but that's what he said."

"Surely, that can't be right."

"I don't know one way or the other, not for sure. They'll have to sort that out in Chicago, look at forensics and shit, and make a decision. The thing is, Watson said some stuff, stuff that got me to thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"You told me once you and Peter were having problems other than the cheating and drinking, but you never said what those problems were."

Renny swiveled away, his back to Ray, his voice shaky. "I don't see why any of that's relevant now, Ray. He's dead. What does talking about that sort of thing help matters?"

"It might not help matters at all. I'm just stumbling around in the dark here, Renny, trying to figure things out. Watson said Peter still had a thing for me and you, made him pretend to be us sometimes when they had sex."

Renny whimpered, his face in his hands. "Dear god, is that why this person came after you? Did Peter humiliate him like that?"

"Better question, did he humiliate you like that?"

"Ray, please, I can't talk about this. It's personal."

"I think that pretty well answers my question. He did that shit with you, too, right?"

After a few moments, Renny turned around and faced him, his cheeks red and tear-streaked. "It wasn't all the time, just when he was drinking. I never understood why he treated me like that, not when he said he loved me so much."

"So did he really make you pretend to be other people?"

"Yes."

"Me?"

"Sometimes, but there were others, in particular his Uncle Edward."

"I didn't think he had any uncles."

"He didn't. Uncle Edward was what he called a family friend from his childhood."

Ray fought down being sick and settled for pissed off. "Fuck, Renny, why'd you let him pull that shit."

"You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"I loved him. I wanted to make him happy. Even so, nothing I did ever worked for long. He was deeply disturbed about many things. At the most basic level, he never thought he was worthy of love. In the end, perhaps if I'd stayed –"

"You might have been hurt worse."

"You don't know that. I could've saved him, persuaded him to get professional help."

Ray rested a hand on Renny's shoulder. "Nobody can save a guy unless he wants to be saved. Peter didn't want that, wasn't ready for it."

Renny sighed deeply and reluctantly nodded in agreement. "I know, but sometimes I feel so guilty, like I deserted him when he most needed me."

"You didn't desert anybody. You've got to believe that. You got out just in time. Now you've got a good guy, a guy who treats you right. Stevie's a real keeper. That's what it's all about, Renny, finding the right partner."

"I just wish things had been different." Renny swallowed hard before he added, "I wish I could've spared you what happened last night."

"And what? Have that guy come after you instead? Sorry, Ren, but between the two of us, I think I had a better chance of stopping the son of a bitch."

"Indeed. Still –"

"I'm okay, or I will be. I just had to tell you the score about what happened. I don't know how much will leak out to the papers, but you need to be ready if a circus breaks out."

"Circus?"

"Media circus, hype. Hell, kinky gay sex, murder, crazy guy running around with a gun? Sounds like the local news and National Inquiry hit the jackpot. I know they put us through the wringer when Ben was shot."

"There were some details about last night's shooting in this morning's paper as well, though nothing lurid, thankfully."

"Might not be. We might get lucky and this stuff might never get out, but it's always better to be prepared before the shit starts flying."

"Thank you." Renny's lower lip trembled and a big tear ran down his cheek. Ray opened his arms, letting the bigger man come in for a hug. Sobbing, Renny choked out, "I'm so glad you're not dead, Ray."

Patting his friend's back, in between shushes, Ray whispered, "It's okay, it's okay. Just let it out."

Ray walked into his shrink's office and Dr. Murphy stood up, motioning towards the chair. "Ray, have a seat. I didn't know for sure you'd come in today."

"Read the papers, huh?"

"Yes."

"Well, I already had an appointment and to tell the truth, I need to talk to somebody so I don't punch out a wall. That okay?"

"Talk, yes. Punching a wall, not so much."

Ray ignored the chair and paced as he talked. Wound up tight, he still couldn't quite get a grip on everything, just couldn't deal with everything that had happened over the last few days. "You ever feel like you're the biggest chump on the planet?"

"Sometimes."

"Yeah? Me, too. It's like you're walking around, having a life, people acting like everything's all normal, but they're really dealing with really shitty situations and nobody has a clue about you, either."

"Are you talking about someone in particular or in general?"

"Both. I mean, you never really know a guy even when you think you do. When I was a cop, I used to go on my gut, my instinct. It was like I could tell when a guy was lying and could figure out how to wheedle out the truth. Now I'm walking around and it's like I wouldn’t know the truth if it jumped up and bit me on the fucking ass."

"You sound angry."

"Hell, yes, I'm angry. Some guy I didn't even know from Adam tried to kill me, which made my kill count go up another notch. What the fuck?" Ray stopped and stood in the middle of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose, fighting off another flash of Watson's death act. After a few moments, he took several deep breaths and sat down in the chair across from Murphy. He rubbed his wet palms on his thighs as he spoke. "I'm a wimp when it comes to killing. It's like, Ben knows I like rabbit stew, right, so he goes out, kills a rabbit, skins it, cooks it, not a problem. Me, I can't even think about the bunny or I can't eat it. I don't have the stomach for it."

"Are you comparing killing a rabbit to killing a person?"

"No. Yeah. Maybe. I mean, from the time we're little kids we're told it's wrong to kill, but then they throw in all these exceptions like if it's self-defense or if you kill pests or slaughter a cow. Then it's okay. Or hunting. Ben hunts, but not for fun, not for sport. He's really practical about it and he uses every part, like the meat for dinner and the fur or skins to make stuff like gloves and hats. But killing a person who's hunting you, what's the score on that? Sure, I know legally I'm off the hook, but the guy's still dead. How am I supposed to feel about that? I'm glad to be alive, but I hate that I had to kill the asshole to stay that way."

"You sound conflicted."

"Conflicted? Oh, yeah. I mean, what do you think about killing somebody?"

"Well, personally, I think you have a legal and moral right to defend yourself or someone else who might be in danger."

"Yeah, me, too. In my head, I know I did what I had to do, but I still can't seem to really believe it."

"Emotionally, you still feel guilty?"

"Yeah." Ray swallowed hard and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands fisted at his chin. "You know, I can live with killing Watson. I don't have a choice. It was just something I had to do. But there's other stuff, other deaths that aren't as easy to get my head around."

"What other deaths?"

"To really understand where I'm coming from, I've got to go back and talk about where this whole deal started."

"Where's that?"

"In a bank when I was thirteen."

"You mentioned that before. Isn't that where you met your ex-wife?"

Ray sat up in surprise, studying the man carefully. "You've got a good memory."

"Mostly."

"And you listen."

"I try."

Ray nodded, thinking he'd finally found somebody that might be able to help him get his life back on track. "You're easier to talk to than the others."

"You mean the other psychologists?"

"Yeah. I guess part of that is because you're not a threat."

"Did you think the doctors you saw in Chicago were a threat?"

"Hell, yeah."

"Why is that?"

"Because I still wanted to be a cop."

"And now?"

"Now I'm not a cop and I don't have to worry about saying anything that would get me canned or tied to a desk. Now I just have to worry about trying to figure out all this shit in my head, about how to get my life back. I mean, I know what violence does to a person. It can really mess you up. I don't want to end up all twisted and too much of a pain in the ass to be around."

"Is that how you see yourself, as a pain in the ass?"

Ray snorted and shrugged, picking at the edge of the bandage that covered his right hand. "I'm not easy to live with, but luckily Ben loves me enough to hang in there anyway. The thing is, I don't want it to be so fucking hard for me or for him. I'm thinking if I can just get a handle on all this shit in my head, I won't end up driving him away."

"Has he given you any reason to think that he'd leave you?"

"No, nothing like that. I just know that if he acted like I've been acting, I'd have a hard time sticking around. Hell, sometimes I wish I could leave myself."

"I think we all feel that way sometimes. One always wants to move forward with his life, but it's difficult."

"Yeah, yeah, it is." Ray suddenly flashed on an important moment with Ben, thinking about what he'd tried to understand once before when he'd stood in that crypt with his partner, waiting for Marcus Ellery to visit his dead mum. "Like you can't go forward until you go backward. Like I tried to run away from my past, but you can't do it, cause it's in your skin, it stays with you. You've got to retrace your steps to figure out how you got here."

After a few moments, Murphy prompted. "You were going to tell me about what happened when you were thirteen."

Ray hesitated only a few seconds before he began. "I took this bus, I drove this car, I got on this train, I walked down this street, I turned this corner, I opened this door, and I stepped into a bank –"

Ray lay on his back in the low light, his right arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling in Mimi's spare bedroom. Ben came in quietly, clicking the door shut, and sat on the edge of the mattress. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been kicked by a mule."

"Have you ever actually been kicked by a mule?"

"If its name was Watson, yeah."

"Ray –"

Ray didn't want to talk about that, so he asked, "How's Jeremy?"

"Better. He's calmer now. I explained that your actual injuries weren't as severe as your appearance might indicate."

Ray closed his eyes, recalling the boy's shock when he opened the door and saw all Ray's facial cuts and bruises when they first arrived. "He took it hard, me getting hurt."

"Yes. He's quite fond of you, you know."

"I know."

"And you're fond of him as well."

"Goes without saying. We probably should've stayed in a hotel or something, not scared him like that."

"He's fine, Ray. He just wasn't expecting you to look quite so –"

"So beat up?"

"Yes." Ben petted back Ray's hair, his hand heavy but gentle at the same time. "Did the warm bath help ease the discomfort?"

"A little." Ray closed his eyes, soaking up Ben's soft touches. "I've been beat up worse in the ring. Don't know why this feels so different."

"I'd imagine it's because few of your pugilistic opponents ever tried to actually commit homicide."

"I don't know. A few might've thought about it after I got in a lucky punch or two. I know Diamond Willy wanted to take my head off more than once."

"Diamond Willy? I'm afraid to even ask how he came by that particular appellation."

Ray snorted and then groaned at the painful spasm across his middle. "Don't make me laugh yet. It hurts."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's a funny story, a real knee-slapper. You'd appreciate it."

"Then I'll be sure to remind you later for a proper recounting." Ben leaned over and kissed him very gently, careful of his swollen lower lip. "You should sleep."

"Can't sleep. My head's too busy."

"What can I do to help?"

"Get in bed. It's cold."

Ben stood and stripped off quickly, wearing only his jockey briefs and a white T-shirt. Ben never suffered the cold like Ray did, always went around half dressed when he should've been freezing his ass off, not that Ray was complaining. Ben crawled under the quilts and scooted in close, drawing Ray next to his chest. The heat roared off him, like turning on a furnace. Ray sighed, relieved and comforted by the warm touch. Nobody held a guy and made him feel as safe as Ben did. "You feel good."

"I'm sorry I didn't get to the cabin sooner, Ray."

"Don't start with that. It wasn't your fault."

"Still –"

"You got there as fast as you could, I know that." Ray teased his fingers over Ben's skin, touched the nipple just under the thin cotton, heard the catch in Ben's breath. It made Ray's dick hungry, but he was too sore to do anything about it. So, he distracted himself and his dick with something he'd put off for too long. "I have a confession to make."

"A confession?"

"Yeah, right before it happened, I was going home to change so I could go out and hunt down Watson myself. Talk about bad timing."

Ben's body stiffened and stilled. "What?"

"I thought, hey, if the Mounties won't let me be a cop, be part of the team, then I'll go it alone, bring the guy in myself, show 'em how we do it in Chicago."

Stunned, Ben pulled away and stared down into Ray's face with disbelief. "Dear god, Ray, you're not serious."

"I know it was stupid, but I wanted to prove I could still be a good cop. But Watson showed up and turned everything around, caught me off guard, nearly took me out."

"Ray, you're not a detective anymore. To mount an operation like that on your own is both irresponsible and dangerous."

"I know that, I do. I mean, it would've been nice to see if I still had the street smarts to pull it off, but now that I think about it, it was pretty dumb, dumber than dumb. I'm sorry."

"I can certainly understand your desire to prove yourself, Ray, I can, but I would've been very distressed had you done such a thing without telling anyone what you were endeavoring to do. Being brave is one thing, foolhardy another."

"I know."

After a few moments, Ben pulled him close again, but he took several deep, calming breaths before he spoke. "You didn't have to tell me about this. Why did you?"

"Because it felt wrong not to."

"I'm glad you told me." Ben delayed another few seconds before he added, "However, should you ever even considering doing such a foolish thing in the future, I'll feel quite obliged to place you under house arrest until the notion passes."

"You'd do that, huh, lock me up and throw away the key until I came to my senses?"

"Whatever it takes to keep you safe, yes."

Ray closed his eyes, drinking in Ben's musky scent, that heady smell he got when he got really possessive. Ray liked it because it made it all the more real, let him know Ben didn't give up easily. "I can live with that."

Ray jerked awake off and on for several hours. Dozing meant a parade of faces, Clooney, O'Malley, and all the others ghouls who'd decided to party inside his head. Now Watson's ugly mug swirled in the mix, making himself right at home and still kicking Ray in the gut every chance he got. The list of haunts just kept getting longer and longer and his body more tense with every try at sleeping. Around 2 A.M., he gave up and rolled away from Ben, putting his legs over the side of the bed. Ben called out, "Ray?"

"Go back to sleep. I'm going downstairs for a while, maybe read a magazine or something."

"I'll come with you."

"No. Stay here. Keep the bed warm."

Reluctantly, Ben nodded, but didn't close his eyes, keeping watch as Ray grabbed the heavy flannel robe Ben had brought from the cabin. Ray slipped on his boots without socks and quietly made his way to the kitchen. He got himself a glass of water first and then checked out the refrigerator. He wasn't really in the mood for milk and cookies, and coffee would just make it harder to sleep.

Ray opened the cabinet above the sink and found the whiskey bottle he knew Mimi kept there for parties. He got it down and sat down with a glass at the table. He unscrewed the cap and poured himself a couple of fingers of Jack Daniels. He put the cap back on and then sniffed the liquor, his whole body screaming in recognition of its power. Just a couple of good shots would let him relax enough to maybe get some rest, he just knew it. He shuddered in anticipation.

A voice called from the door. "Ray?"

"Hey, kid." Ray put the glass down and turned to see Jeremy and Dief standing in the doorway, the boy rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"Dief heard a noise."

Ray glared at the wolf, the big busybody. "He did, huh?"

"Yeah." Jeremy walked over and sat down at the table across from him. "You couldn't sleep, eh?"

"No, not really."

"Your face hurt?"

"Yeah, a little, but I'm okay. Nothing to worry about. I'll look like my old ugly self in no time."

Jeremy didn't really say anything back, just sat there and stared, sort of like the wolf when he sighted a rabbit too far away in the woods. It made Ray feel guilty, sitting there at the boy's table, doing something he knew he shouldn't be doing. "Look, you should go back to bed. You've got school tomorrow."

Jeremy cocked his head sideways and just blinked, like he was processing the picture of Ray sitting in the dark with a bottle. When he finally spoke, it chilled Ray to his very center. "My dad used to have trouble sleeping."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He'd come down here at night and drink, too. Does it help?"

"Does it help what?"

"Whatever's bothering you. I mean, it never seemed to help my dad much."

Ray swallowed hard, wondering what the kid was thinking when he thought about his dad, knowing he'd seen his father blow his brains out. "I don't know about your dad, Jeremy. I don't know what made him do what he did."

"Would you ever do that?"

"You mean hurt myself?"

"Yeah. Would you ever do something like that?"

"I hope not."

"But you don't know for sure?"

"It's hard to say what makes a guy do something like that."

"My mom said he was drinking too much and wasn't thinking straight. She said he still loved us, but he just didn't know how to show it. What do you think?"

The lump in his throat made it hard for Ray to talk, but he choked out a few words. "I think your mum's a really smart lady."

"Yeah, me, too. I hope she's right about him loving us, because I really loved him. I miss him."

Ray took a deep breath and stood up. He poured out the whiskey and rinsed the glass before putting the bottle back in the cabinet. He turned and saw Jeremy and the wolf watching his every move. Clearing his throat, he asked, "You ready to hit the hay or what?"

Jeremy smiled as he petted the top of Dief's head. "I could sleep."

Ray guided the boy back upstairs to his bedroom and tucked him in, Dief snuggling in beside him. Ruffling the wolf's fur, he whispered, "Good catch, furface. Night, you two."

Jeremy's, "Night, Ray," was followed by a quiet yip and a tail wag.

As Ray headed down the hall, Mimi peeked her head out of her bedroom and asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Just a little guy talk, that's all."

"Guy talk?"

"Yeah, I think he was a little freaked out seeing me like this, but he's fine now."

"You need anything?"

Ray shook his head. "No, thanks." He pointed toward the guestroom. "I'm heading back to bed."

"I'll see you in the morning then. Waffles okay?"

"Waffles would be great. Thanks."

"I'll see you in the morning. Get some sleep, Ray."

"I will."

As she closed the door, he headed back to bed. Ben was still awake and he pulled him into an embrace under the covers. He kissed the side of Ray's neck. "I missed you."

"Me, too."

"I heard talking."

"Bat ears much?"

"Having extra sensitive hearing is often a positive attribute on the job, Ray."

"So, what'd you hear?"

"I heard you and Jeremy talking, but I couldn't hear the details. Even if I could, I'd never intrude on your privacy like that, Ray."

"No?"

"No."

Ray buried his face into Ben's shoulder and whispered. "You ever have one of those moments when something really important smacks you upside the head and makes you sit up and pay closer attention?"

"You mean like an epiphany?"

"Good word. Yeah, like that, an epiphany. Anyway, I think I had one of those when I was talking to Jeremy."

"Might I inquire as to its nature?"

"I think you might be right."

"As I so often am."

Ray snorted and rubbed his whiskery chin against Ben's shirt before he settled back down against his partner's body, allowing Ben's strong arms to hold him. "Smartass."

"It must be the company I keep. I've never been known for my impertinence until recently."

"Don't kid yourself. You were always a smartass, but you were so good at it, nobody could figure it out. Big words, slick voice, it just soared right over their heads."

"Perhaps. Aspersions to my character aside, might I ask what I was right about this time?"

Ray stopped teasing, knowing that what he was about to say might change his life forever. "I think I might have a problem."

"Problem?"

"With drinking."

"Ah."

"Ah? That's all you've got to say? I'm telling you I might be a drunk after all and all I get is a measly ah?"

Ben rested his cheek next to Ray's cheek, his eyes closed, a tear leaking from beneath the lid. "I’m sorry, Ray."

"For what?"

"For wishing that I'd been wrong and that you didn't have to deal with any of this."

"Yeah, me, too, but it's funny."

"What is?"

"After all the bitching and moaning and thinking you were just overreacting, it took a kid to make me see the light."

"Jeremy?"

"Yeah. We talked about his dad, about how he drank a lot. It made me see myself through Jeremy's eyes and I didn't like the view, not one bit. I guess, if I'm honest, I might need to look into doing something about that."

"What do you propose?"

Ray closed his eyes, wishing he could do anything else, but knowing what he had to do. People could say a lot of things about Ray Kowalski, that he was quick-tempered and surly, high strung and hard-to-handle. One thing that he never wanted anyone to say was that he was a coward, that he couldn't face the truth when it was slapping him in the face. "I guess I might need to give that AA business a shot. No promises. It might not work out, but I sure as hell couldn't do much worse than what I've been doing."

Ben hugged him harder, his face slightly more red and his eyes leaking again. "I love you, Ray."

"I love you, too."

Lying in Ben's arms, Ray relaxed and let Ben gently rub his hands up and down Ray's belly as he softly sang his favorite Inuit love song. Ben's voice carried Ray off to slumber, his body light as a feather, high above any personal monster that might bite him in the ass while he was sleeping.

Epilogue

Christmas Week

"Ray, we're going to be late. You're not even dressed yet."

Finishing up the red bow on the present, Ray snickered. "And who's fault is that, Mr. I'm too sexy when I'm wet?"

Ben pinked up, tugging at his ear. "I don't believe it would be appropriate to blame me entirely. If I remember correctly, you had something to say in the matter."

"Oh, yeah." Ray laughed a little harder as he recalled their impromptu lovemaking session right after Ben showered. "I started it, I'll cop to that."

Ben stepped closer to the kitchen table, his hand on Ray's back as he kissed his cheek. "I suppose being the first to a party isn't always a requirement."

"Hey, fashionably late works for me." Ray stood up straighter, drew Ben into his arms, and gave him a proper kiss, one with tongue and lots of slobber. When he pulled back, he had to catch his breath before he could talk. "It won't take me long to get ready. I just wanted to wrap the present for Chris and Eddie."

"If you'd wrapped it –"

"Last night like you said, blah, blah, blah, I know. I got busy then, too, if you'll remember."

Ben stared at him, his face relaxed and happy. "Oh, yes, I remember quite well, and I'm not complaining."

Ray laughed again and pushed Ben away. "Well, don't start anything else or we'll never get out the door. You fill out the card while I put some more clothes on."

Strong hands slid under Ray's thermal top as Ben tilted his head to the side to kiss Ray's neck. "I put your blue wool sweater out on the bed."

"The blue sweater, huh? You dressing me now?"

Ben's thumb pressed against the bite-sized bruise at the base of Ray's throat. "Well, I thought perhaps you should wear a turtleneck to avoid crass remarks from certain parties."

"Good point." Ray captured Ben's hand and then brought it to his face, kissing the palm, horny as hell. "Chris turns thirteen whenever he sees a hickey."

"He does seem rather perverse about it." Ben met Ray's intense gaze. "However, that's not why I want you to wear the sweater."

"Oh, yeah?"

"I love how it makes your eyes sparkle."

"Mushy much?"

"I don't consider it overly sentimental to tell you how much you appeal to me with or without certain apparel."

Ray kissed Ben's hand again and then sucked his index finger into his mouth, the nail hard and sharp against his tongue. Ben's face flushed bright red and his breathing quickened. "Ray, if you persist in being this provocative, I fear I can't be held accountable for my actions."

Tempted to give in and go back to bed, Ray kissed Ben quickly and decided he didn't want to explain to all their friends why they'd missed half the party, even if they could probably already make a good guess. "Yeah, okay, but as soon as the party's over, we're back here and I plan to provoke like crazy."

"Right you are, Ray. I'll look forward to it."

As Ray went to finish dressing, Ben sat down at the table and looked at the handmade card. An original watercolor of Chris and Eddie's view from their front window adorned the front. It was nearly an abstract with a wash of blues and shades of grey, but it was still quite obviously their particular landscape. Ben shook his head in wonder at the result of Ray's artistic vision. "This is really quite beautiful, Ray."

Pulling the sweater over his head, Ray stepped to the doorway and asked, "What?"

"The painting you did for the card. It's beautiful."

It was Ray's turn to blush. "Thanks. I know Eddie really likes my stuff."

"He'll like both the card and your painting then."

"I hope so." Ray sat in the chair across from Ben and put on his boots. "I thought about getting Chris something different. It's hard to know what to do with couples, same gift or separate."

"I think Chris will appreciate your painting as well, Ray. Which brings me to my next question, how do I make out the card, from you or from both of us?"

"Both."

"But you did the painting, not me."

"So?"

"So, it's a gift from you. I'm not sure why my name should be on it."

Ray had one boot on and sat up, staring at Ben for several extra beats before he said, "You're the one who suggested it."

"A suggestion can hardly count as a gift, Ray."

Ray went back to putting on his other boot. "Well, you can get them something separate if you want, but it's from us, not just me."

"All right, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. Just like I'm sure that when you give Mimi that totem carving you did, it'll be from both of us, not just you."

"But that's different. You made the design."

"And you framed the picture for Chris and Eddie. We're a couple now, Ben. That's how it works."

"Is that how it worked with you and Stella?"

Ray stood up and stomped his right boot a couple of times to settle his toe into the front of it. He thought about his answer carefully, not sure how Ben would take what he had to say. "Stella and I, we didn't really do presents like you and me."

"I don't understand? You didn't give gifts?"

"No, we gave gifts. That's not what I mean." Sitting back down, Ray didn't meet Ben's gaze as he traveled down the long line of memories of Christmases past. "Look, Stella did most of the gift getting. She wanted fancy stuff so she'd buy something and put both our names on it. Half the time, I didn't even know what she'd bought for people until they opened it or sent a thank you card."

"What about the presents you exchanged? Didn't you personalize them at all?"

Ray snorted, the bitterness strong even after so many years. "I got shot down enough that first few Christmases never to make that mistake again. Anyway, Stella usually let me know what she wanted and I'd buy it and spend the next six or seven months paying it off."

"And what did she get you?"

"Clothes usually, a watch, some jewelry, just stuff that looked good, but never meant much. There was one year she got me a leather jacket I liked." Ray looked over at Ben and smiled, happy that he'd found someone who shared the same joy of the season that he'd always had as a kid. "Christmas with The Stella was nothing like it is with you, Ben. With her, it was being caught up with the Jones, spending money, and going to parties. It was all about appearance. With you, it's about the thought that counts, about thinking about the other person, not about what you think that person should want. I mean, you spend ages coming up with something special."

"As do you, Ray."

"Yeah, that's the fun part, me making or getting something I think you'll like. It's a sweet kick to see your face when you open a present, Ben. You light up the whole room. You put the A in appreciation. Hell, I could give you a block of wood and you'd be happy if you thought I'd picked that wood just for you."

"I suppose that comes from all the years I never had what one might consider a traditional Christmas. We rarely exchanged gifts and when we did, it was entirely of a practical or educational purpose."

"That had to suck."

"My grandparents meant well, Ray. They just never really celebrated Christmas, not like my mother did. For them, it was merely another day of the year. I think they only made concessions once I came to live with them."

"Concessions? You mean like giving you gifts was a hardship?"

"For them, yes. We weren't well off, so they had to be quite thrifty. Still, they did try to mark the occasion by giving me a day off from chores, a book, or extra pemmican as a treat. I always had warm clothes and I never went without food, Ray. They didn't mean for me to feel deprived in any way."

"But you did."

"Somewhat, yes."

"So you make up for it now."

"I suppose that's true, yes."

Reaching across the table, Ray took Ben's hand and squeezed. "You're the best present a guy could have."

"I feel the same way about you."

Ray cocked his head and teased, "Does that mean I don't get a present this year since I've already had you?"

"On the contrary. I think you'll be quite pleased."

"So what'd you get me?"

"You'll just have to wait and see." It was an old joke between them, Ray asking and Ben not telling.

"What if I guess? Would you tell me then?"

"You'll never guess."

"Never? Is that a dare? Is that like a double dog dare or something?"

"Perhaps."

"Because if it is, I have to warn you, I used to be a detective."

"Even your superior detective skills won't help you, Ray. The secret is quite secure."

"Secure, huh?" Ray rubbed his hands together as he thought about any clues that Ben might have given over the last few days, any hints at all about what his present might be. "Let me guess, is it bigger than a breadbox?"

Ben rolled his eyes and stood up. "We're going to be late."

"Wait, wait, what about twenty questions? We could do that and if I guess right, you have to tell me."

"No, Ray, I don't." Ben stepped around the table, kissed Ray on the forehead, and went to get their coats."

"I'll bet I can guess."

"You know I don't wager."

"Do, too."

"Do not."

"Do, too. Some new air just blew in from the north pole. We could bet that. Is it a new pair of mukluks?"

"What's wrong with the old pair?"

"Hey, a guy can never have too many mukluks, right?"

Eddie had really done a bang up job decorating, with lots of greenery everywhere and candles placed all around for the best effect. Ray whistled when he walked in. "Man, look at this place. I should've brought my camera."

Chris took their coats, all smiles. "Be sure to tell Eddie you like it. You wouldn't believe the hours he put in to make it look like this, not to mention all the cooking he's been doing for days."

Dief shoved past them in a hurry to head for the nearest kid. Ben shook his head in frustration at the wolf's behavior. "I apologize. Eddie said it was okay to bring him."

"Not a problem. Now that we've got the pup, it's a dog friendly environment. Besides, Diefenbaker is always welcome."

Ray knew they'd taken the friskiest male of the litter, the one that hogged all the food whenever the largest pup, Bruiser, would let him. Ray figured he was a little bit too rambunctious, even for a pup and if he didn't grow up to be a huge pain in the ass, he'd eat Ben's hat. Ray asked, "How's that going? He eat you out of house and home yet?"

Chris chuckled and shrugged. "Not yet, but he's half pig, that's for sure."

"Must be the Dief part."

"Ray!"

"Come on, Ben, you know it's true."

"Well, I will admit Diefenbaker has a bit more than a healthy appetite. I suppose it's not unlikely that one of his offspring might inherit the same trait."

Chris interrupted, "Hey, he's Eddie's dog, not mine. He'll be the one who has to worry about the food bill."

"So, what'd you name the little oinker? Porky?"

"Very funny, Ray. Named him Griff. Damn thing whined and whined until Eddie let him get in bed with us. Then he had to go out like four times last night. Personally, I think Eddie's going to have his work cut out for him, but I'm going to be the one who ends up in the doghouse."

Ben shook his head and tutted with his tongue. "It's very difficult to break them of bad habits established when they're young."

Ray teased, "So what's Dief's excuse?"

"I assume it's liberal and undisciplined influences."

Ray pretended to take offence. "Hey, you calling me a bad influence again?"

Chris joined in the fun. "I do believe he just did, Ray."

Before Ray could act insulted, Ben's eyes suddenly widened in appreciation of the Christmas tree in the corner. It was so tall that it nearly touched the highest beam in the vaulted ceiling. "Good Lord, what a lovely tree. It's quite stupendous."

Ray had to agree. The giant spruce would give Macy's a run for its money, all the decorations handmade and rustic, lots of wooden toys tied with red ribbon mixed in with natural finds like pinecones, feathers, and dried leaves. It was topped with a bright gold paper star and wrapped with cranberry and popcorn strings, just like the tinsel he and Ben had used for their own tree. The only concession to modern times was the use of multi-colored lights that wound around from top to bottom. "How long did it take to put that baby up?"

Chris shook his head and groaned. "You don't even want to know. My back's still killing me."

While Ben and Chris exchanged sympathy talk about bad backs and getting old, Ray took in the whole scene. Christmas music played in the background, but he could hardly hear it. Children's high-pitched voices drowned out the carols and he saw two of Cal's kids sitting and talking with Jeremy over at a game table near the fireplace where Dief had joined in. They were playing monopoly and having some dispute about who owned what and how much money a guy needed to buy it. Two of Cal's other boys were shoving each other and making faces while reading a Spiderman comic book. Randy, Cal's oldest, sat near the tree, holding hands and making eyes at a girl who Ray didn't recognize, but whom Randy had mentioned, a Renee something or other. She was a looker and Ray admired the kid's good taste.

The smell of spices filled the air, mainly cinnamon and cloves, but others, too. He grinned, thinking about how Ben could probably name every single one and tell him where they came from later on. In the kitchen Eddie, Mimi, and Cal's wife, Angela, were standing by the big kettle of mulled cider brewing on the stove. They were all laughing and talking about some new recipe and how hard it was to find good ingredients without having to use mail order. Cal sat with Stevie at the counter that divided the kitchen from the living area, involved in some conversation about construction. At the farthest window, Renny stood alone, holding a cup of tea and looking out at the snow. From his sad expression, he was either daydreaming or nowhere near the building.

Ray excused himself from Ben and Chris and headed over to talk to his friend. "Hey, Renny."

Startled, Renny composed himself quickly. "Hello, Ray. It's good to see you."

"Same here." Ray touched Renny's sleeve, his voice lower. "So, how are you doing, really?"

Renny smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes, trying for a brave face, but not quite making it. "I'm okay, Ray. It's just, I'm still quite overwhelmed at times."

"You still having a hard time with the idea of Peter leaving you his estate?"

"Yes, actually, I am." Renny edged closer, his voice just barely loud enough for Ray to hear over all the laughter and chatter. "I've been pondering what I should do about it and I fear I'm in quite the quandary."

"About what?"

"Well, obviously, I can't keep the money or the property."

"I don't see why not."

"It wouldn't feel seemly."

"He must've wanted you to have it. I mean, that's why he wrote the will the way he did."

Renny looked down at his teacup, his face strained. "That's what Stevie says."

The light bulb went off in his head, explaining that gloomy expression when Renny should've been in hog heaven, what with all the food and festivities. "You and Stevie arguing about it?"

"Not arguing, as such, but we've had some rather heated disagreements. He thinks I should invest the money and secure our future."

"What do you want?"

Renny hesitated, biting his lower lip like he was considering his answer very carefully. For Renny, that meant it looked like he had a really bad migraine coupled with some serious constipation. After a few seconds, he finally said, "I'd like your opinion about something."

"What?"

"I've been thinking about using the money to start a charitable foundation, something that would honor Peter's memory more than me just taking his family's wealth and using it for personal gain. In particular, I know Peter worried a great deal about gay youths who had been ostracized by their families. I thought perhaps a counseling center that dealt primarily with gay issues might be in order."

Stunned, Ray stepped back and saw Renny in a whole new bright light. "Wow. You really want to do that?"

"It seems like the right thing to do."

"But Stevie doesn't want to?"

"He has concerns."

"I'll bet. For one thing, if you did that, who'd run the show, make the decisions, be the head guy in charge? It'd be a big job, Renny. It wouldn't be just about writing a few checks."

"That's what Stevie said. I fear his main concern is that I'd have to go back to Chicago and we'd be separated for a lengthy, undetermined period."

"He's right. It'd be hard to do all that from here."

"Initially, perhaps."

"You thinking about running the thing yourself?"

Renny snorted and shook his head. "Oh, no. I'm not qualified for such a position and I really love my life here. However, there are good people who do that sort of charitable administrative task. I could hire someone and once it was set up correctly, he or she would handle things and I'd still be here with Stevie."

"You got someone in mind?"

"I haven't even decided for sure that it's the correct thing to do."

"Really? Sounds like it to me. Sounds like you've got it pretty much worked out except for the details."

"Does it? Yes, I suppose it does." Renny stared at him and asked, "What do you think, Ray? Do you think I've lost my mind as Stevie puts it?"

"To be honest, it does sound a little crazy at first, but you know what? I think it's a great idea. I think Peter would really go for it. I mean, he knew you weren't about the money, so why leave it to a guy like you if he didn't want you to do something like that?"

"Do you really think so? Do you really think that was his intention on making such a shocking dispersal of his inheritance?"

Ray put his hand on Renny's shoulder and squeezed gently. "He loved you, Renny. He didn't know how to show it, but maybe this was his way of making up for that. He knew you'd do the right thing."

"Maybe." Renny paused and then brightened. "Perhaps you and Fraser could help."

Ray got a sinking feeling that he was going to be roped into something he really didn't want to do, but he asked, "Help how?"

"This is a huge decision. I value yours and Fraser's input on how I might do this sort of thing."

"Then I'll ask him. He's might know some people who could help."

"I'd appreciate any aid you could render."

"Okay, I'll talk to him about it and we'll get together after the holidays to hammer out some ideas. Right now you need to cheer up and take time off. Enjoy yourself and stop looking like a gloomy Gus."

"I'll do my best."

"Good. Now, where's the food? I'm starving." As Renny took his elbow and guided him to the kitchen, Ray couldn't help but wonder if he should've just kept his big mouth shut and left it to his friend to work out on his own. Anybody else would've taken the money and run, but not Renny. He was a good guy and he deserved their help. Ray just hoped that dealing with Peter's last wishes didn't spoil Renny's hopes of a happy ending of his own with Stevie. Ray knew a lot of marriages that crumpled for a lot less than giving away a fortune.

Mimi cornered Ray alone in the kitchen while he was filling his coffee cup one more time. She gave him a big hug and a quick peck on the cheek. "Ray, Ray, I've been meaning to tell you, you look wonderful!"

"You, too, Mimi. Merry Christmas."

"Same to you, young man, same to you." She pulled back and eyed him up and down. "That sweater really suits you and you've put on a few pounds, too. It's looks good on you."

Ray patted his stomach and grinned. "Between you and Ben stuffing my face every chance you get, I'm going to end up like one of those big fat guys who waddle around every place."

She smacked him on his arm. "Don't be silly. You're still too thin as it is. You're just filling in and catching up to where you should be. About time, too."

"Thanks."

Mimi stepped in closer, lowering her voice to a hush. "I have a big favor to ask."

Leaning in, his ear closer to her mouth, Ray whispered back, "Anything. You know that."

"What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

Ray sweetened and creamed his coffee and shrugged, "Ben has to work until six, so I'm free for most of the day. Why? What do you need?"

"You know Jeremy already has Amelia, eh?"

"Yeah, I know. I was there when he picked her up from Cal's yesterday."

"He thinks that she's all he's getting for Christmas, so he's not expecting anything else from me."

"And you've got something else?"

"Yes. I had one of my regulars, Bernie Weston, make him a doghouse."

Ray frowned, thinking about the yippy little bundle of white fur Jeremy had taken home the day before freezing in the arctic night. "You know she's too little to stay outside yet, right?"

"Of course, but this is for spring and summer when she gets older and a lot bigger. The problem is, it's way too heavy and awkward for me to bring home alone. I've got the truck, but I can't lift it. Even if I could, I'd never get it into the backyard without Jeremy seeing it. I want it to be a surprise for Christmas morning."

"I can help with that, no problem. We'll get it in the backyard and cover it with some kind of tarp. We'll say it's a new woodpile or something. Then we'll make a big red bow you can tie to it for Christmas morning."

"That's wonderful. Thanks, Ray. Come by my place around one and we'll go get it. Bernie's place isn't far outside of town. That's when Jeremy's supposed to be going with Cal to make a delivery to Kevin Tate."

"Yeah?" Ray knew Renny and Stevie had the other girl pup and had named her Gretchen. Then there were Chris and Eddie who had their Griff and Amelia had Jeremy. Ray scratched his head, hoping he hadn't heard right. "Cal's taking the last two pups to Tate to be sled dogs?"

"I suppose so. Why?"

Ray took a deep breath, disappointed. "I thought he'd only take Bruiser and leave the little guy at his place."

"Bruiser?"

"Yeah, one of the males was really aggressive, a real alpha according to Cal, not good pet material. That's the kind of dog Tate wanted so he could train him to be a lead dog. But the other one, he's a sweet little guy. I was kind of hoping –"

"Hoping what?"

"Nothing." Ray sipped the coffee, thinking about all the days he'd played with the little white male that had licked his face and played with his shirt buttons, chewing on his fingers and nipping at his chin. The little guy had Dief's eyes, too, all intense and intelligent. Even as a pup, it was like he looked right into him, loved and trusted Ray no matter what. "It's just I don't know how well he'll do on a sled team. He's not tough like the other one, just sort of laid back. I was kind of hoping Cal would keep him or sell him as a pet."

"I guess nobody wanted him. A husky-wolf mix isn't always easy to sell."

Swallowing hard, Ray sighed. "Yeah, I guess. I'm going to miss him, though."

"Why didn't you get him for yourself if you wanted a dog?"

"We've got Dief already. I guess I thought two big dogs in the same cabin might be pushing it."

"Well, maybe you can get one out of Lucy's next litter."

"Yeah, maybe."

"So, tomorrow at one, you'll be at my place?"

"Sure."

"And you two are still coming on Christmas day, right?"

Ray grinned. He'd already eaten enough for an army and was stuffed to the gills with Eddie's old fashioned turkey and dressing, but just the thought of Mimi's cooking still made his mouth water. "You bet."

"That's great. So, what are you and Ben doing tomorrow night for Christmas Eve supper when he gets off from work?"

Ray grinned, pretending he liked the idea of slaving over a hot stove without Ben there to put the fires out. "Would you believe I'm cooking?"

Shaking her head, she didn't look like she believed a word of it. "You're kidding."

"Hey, I can cook."

"Not to hear Ben tell it."

"Ben never said anything bad about my cooking."

"Never said anything good, either. I'll tell you what. After you help me get this doghouse set up, why don't I give you some food to take back?"

Ray was more than tempted. As much as he wanted to surprise Ben with a home-cooked meal after a long day of cop work, using that wood stove was a hell of a lot harder than it looked when Ben did it. Ray had already burned more biscuits than he'd ever eaten and half of everything he'd ever cooked ended up in the trash. "Yeah? I thought your restaurant was closed for the week."

"The restaurant, yeah, my kitchen, no way. There's more than enough for you and Ben to have a nice holiday supper."

"You're sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. It's as easy to bake two pies as one and I'm cooking extra meat as soon as I get home tonight." Mimi patted his arm like a fellow conspirator. "I'll pot you up a great meal for just the two of you. That way you can save your strength for something more romantic."

Ray's face heated, but he grinned wider. "You're a naughty woman, Mimi LeBeau."

"Never claimed otherwise." With that, she smiled and headed off to join the party in the main part of the house.

Staying in the kitchen an extra few moments, Ray thought about all his romantic plans for tomorrow night and decided he'd better head to the can for a splash of cold water. If Ben saw his blush, he'd know something was up for sure, and he'd be right.

Later in the evening, Cal and his brood headed home along with Mimi and Jeremy. Shortly after that, Stevie and Renny left to go spend time with Stevie's mum and sister. They'd all exchanged presents, but hadn't opened them, agreeing to save the gifts for later.

Ray sat in the easy chair near the fire as Ben strummed Eddie's guitar. They'd sung Christmas carols for over an hour before the kids left. Now it was just grownups hanging out. Ray loved to hear Ben play and sing, especially when it was all peaceful like this. At the moment Ben was doing the talented Mountie version of "O' Holy Night". When Ben hit the last note, Ray's heart was in his throat and Eddie dabbed at his eyes.

A smiling, clapping Chris shook his head in admiration. "I had no idea you could sing like that, Fraser. I mean, I knew you could sing, but, wow, that was amazing."

"You've got a beautiful voice. I'd kill for a voice like that, damn it." Eddie sniffed again and blew his nose. "Don't mind me. I get weepy around the holidays. Drives Chris crazy."

Sitting on the sofa together, Chris put his arm around his partner and hugged him while he teased, "Now, Eddie, that's not true, honey. Go ahead and be a girl for Christmas. I don't mind."

Eddie slapped him away, but smiled as he snapped back. "Fuck you, Macho man."

Ray shook his head, trying not to laugh, and then asked Eddie. "How's the book coming? You heard back from the publisher yet?"

Eddie's expression grew serious. "It's with the editor. I figure I'll be doing rewrites before long. What about you two? How's the collaboration thing coming?"

Ray pursed his lips and glanced over at Ben. They'd spent hours working on the text to go along with his pictures. They'd fiddled and fussed, but in the long run, Ben had the right idea, the right words for what worked the best with his photographs. "You'll have to ask my partner here."

Ben obliged with an explanation. "I think we can safely say that the work is progressing nicely. We're nearing completion. It'll be up to the publishing company to either accept the direction of the text or suggest a different approach."

Eddie frowned. "What direction are you talking about? I thought you were just putting some kind of description of the pictures together."

Ray answered, "Yeah, at first, but then Ben had this idea about turning it into a story."

Eddie asked, "What kind of story?"

Ben leaned the guitar against the nearby bookcase and then walked over to sit in the straight back chair next to Ray's overstuffed one. "We thought it'd be interesting to tell Ray's story, his first impressions of the natural world as he discovers the ways of the animals he photographs."

"Yeah, I wrote out how I went about watching the animals, you know seeing how they lived and moved around. Ben took what I wrote and fixed it up."

"It wasn't actually broken, Ray. I just –"

Ray waved off Ben's comment. "I know, I know. You just made it sound like a real story, with complete sentences and stuff. He even picked some old poems to put with some of the pictures." Ray reached over and took Ben's hand, lacing their fingers together. "It's really working out. I really like it, so I hope they do, too."

Eddie nodded. "Oh, I'm sure they will. It sounds intriguing. Could I read it sometime?"

"Sure, when we're finished."

"Thanks." Eddie patted Chris's leg to get his attention. "I'm going to take Griff out for his walk. Why don't you wrap up the rest of the food? Mimi and I did most of the dishes, but there are still some glasses and dessert plates that need washing."

"No problem."

Ray volunteered himself for dog duty. "Hey, you want company? Dief could probably use a quick run, too. Maybe he can teach the pup a few tricks."

Chris complained. "Tell the truth, Kowalski, you just don't want to help clean up."

"Who wouldn’t want to romp in the snow over doing dishes?"

Fraser nodded in agreement. "He certainly has a valid point, Chris. However, I'm sure he and Eddie will no doubt join us in due course once they've done their diligent duties as pet owners."

"Hey, you better not let Dief hear you call him a pet. He's liable to get ticked off."

"And do what, Ray? Go on a hunger strike? After today's overindulgence, I think not. You might well have to offer him bribes just to get him to relinquish his spot by the fire."

Ray glanced over at the sleeping wolf and laughed. "Yeah, he is pretty sacked out." He walked over and leaned down, ruffling Dief's fur. "Come on, big boy, time to take a leak."

"Ray, language, please."

"What?" Before Ben explained, Ray held up a hand. "Okay, okay, time for a potty break, whatever. Come on. Let's make some yellow snow and show your boy how it's done."

Chris laughed as he stacked the dirty dishes for washing. "Just make sure it's at the back of the cabin."

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Where the Griffster wants to go. Better outside than on your hardwood floors."

Eddie came out of the bedroom wearing his heavy coat and hat, carrying Griff. The pup was all excited, ready to jump out of his arms any minute. "Settle down, boy. We're almost there."

Ray glanced over and saw Fraser smiling and shaking his head as he helped Chris do the clean up. Dief by his side, Ray grabbed his own coat and followed his friend outside. It was going to be a long winter of house training, but he had to admit he envied Eddie having a pup of his own to raise and spoil.

Later at their own cabin, Ray walked inside and over to the Christmas tree. Sure, it wasn't a huge tree like Chris and Eddie's, but he loved how it was covered with all the things he and Ben had made the year before, the year when his life turned around. Ray put the bag of presents down while Ben spread the food on the table.

Ray took off his coat and then kneeled down to arrange all the gifts under the tree. "What a haul."

"Haul, Ray?"

"Yeah, you know, haul as in, we made out like gangbusters."

"I still don't –"

"I'm just saying we got a lot of neat stuff to bring home, food, presents, you know, a haul. Must be Christmas."

"Ah, I see your meaning. Yes, we seem to have amassed quite a few gifts throughout the night." Ben put the leftover turkey and dressing Eddie gave them into their small refrigerator. Then he stretched his arms over his head and caught himself, his face grimaced for just a second as he rubbed his left shoulder. "I think I'll forgo tea tonight."

Ray folded the paper bag and got up from the floor, frowning as he asked, "Too tired for tea? That's a new one. You feeling okay?"

"I'm just rather tired and I have early duty in addition to my full shift. As you know, it's been a rather hectic week."

"Oh, I get that." Ray stowed the bag under the sink and then hugged Ben from behind, resting his chin on his good right shoulder. Ben had told him several sad stories of shoplifting and burglaries committed by people who were unemployed and desperate. Every crook had a sob story and Ben always took each and every one to heart, especially the domestic runs that cropped up even more often during the holidays. "Christmas is always the busiest season for a cop."

Ben turned in his arms and returned Ray's embrace before giving him a quick kiss. "I'll start a fire. Let's go to bed, Ray."

Their nightly routine usually included sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, drinking tea and coffee, talking about the day, just catching up and touching base. Obviously, Ben had other plans and Ray had no problems with that, especially since it was after eleven and Ben usually got up around 5 in the morning. "Sure, okay. Sounds good."

While Ben got the night fire going in the bedroom fireplace, Ray undressed. He put on the red union suit he'd taken to wearing since it'd turned so bitterly cold around the end of November. It wasn't so bad once he'd gotten used to dealing with the whole butt-flap thing. It was a hell of a lot warmer than almost anything else he'd tried. Ben bought him his own pair, a size smaller, a few weeks ago, and it was even toastier than Ben's, the thermal weave of a fine cotton-wool blend closer to his skin. The right fit worked better than baggy at keeping his skinny ass from freezing, especially when he had to get up and go to the can in the middle of the night. Though considering they had indoor plumbing compared to last year's outhouse, Ray wasn't complaining, not too much anyway.

Ray crawled under the covers and watched as Ben put on his own red suit. "You know that thing makes you look hot as hell, right?"

Ben smiled as he folded and put away his clothes. "I do remember you mentioning it once or twice, yes. You look quite fetching as well, Ray."

As Ben crawled in beside him, pulling the covers up to their chins, Ray whispered, "You realize what tomorrow is, right?"

"Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, and it's something else, too."

Ben pulled back and met his gaze. "Something else?"

"Our anniversary. We gave each other our rings one year ago on Christmas Eve."

Ben's lips thinned into a grin. "I remember, yes."

"It's hard to believe it's been a whole year."

"We'll have double the reason to celebrate the season." Then sighing heavily, Ben closed his eyes and rested his head on Ray's chest. "I wish I didn't have duty tomorrow, Ray. We could spend the whole day together."

"It's okay. You've got Christmas day off and, I know as the new guy, you had to finagle like crazy to get that much."

"Thank you for understanding."

"I was a cop, too, remember? I know what it's like. The family guys all want the day off and usually you're stuck working both days if you don't have a wife and kids."

"We should all share the duty equally, regardless of status."

"I agree, but it doesn't usually work out that way. I'm just glad you got someone who'd trade New Years for Christmas day so we can just wallow and enjoy Christmas morning." Ray hugged him and then kissed the top of his head. "Go to sleep now. I don't want you too tired. A tired cop makes mistakes."

"I'll be fine, Ray. There's not been a single act of serious violence on my route since I've returned to active duty. Though I must confess, having Diefenbaker by my side has been more helpful than I could've ever imagined. He apparently acts as quite the deterrent to impulsive crimes."

"Guy sees a wolf eyeballing him and he's not going to do any shoplifting I'll bet."

"Indeed."

"I'm glad he's with you. I mean, I miss having him around, but I breathe easier knowing he's doing his part to keep you safe."

"I'm pleased that you don't seem quite as anxious about me working as you were."

"Yeah, well, I figure you're a good cop, you've got the wolf. You're as safe doing your job as doing anything else these days."

Ben burrowed his face against Ray's chest and then took several deep breaths, obviously worn to a frazzle. Ray petted back Ben's hair, his voice hushed. "Go to sleep, Ben. You've got a big day ahead."

"Good night, Ray. I love you."

"Love you, too." Holding Ben close, Ray didn't fall asleep right away. His mind jumping all over the place, thinking about what he had to do tomorrow, what he wanted to do, what he hoped they both got to do. Christmas with Ben was gift enough, but all the little things he had planned would make it even more special. He just hoped nothing went wrong, nothing kept him for doing all the things he wanted to do to show Ben just how much he loved him more than life. Ray finally drifted off a little after one, Ben still asleep and breathing softly in his arms.

The mattress dipped as Ben leaned down to kiss Ray's cheek. "I have to leave. Happy Anniversary, Ray, and Merry Christmas."

Capturing Ben's hand, Ray squinted, letting his eyes slowly adjust to the light. "Not so fast, buster. You missed."

"Missed?"

"My mouth."

Ben chuckled and then tried again, this time his lips pressing against Ray's, not for long, but long enough to show his reluctance to leave. As he parted, he caressed Ray's face. "I'd stay home to celebrate our special day if I could."

"We'll celebrate tonight and tomorrow. Just be extra careful, okay?"

"I always take care, Ray."

"Yeah, right." Ray hooked the back of Ben's neck, pulling him down for another quick kiss. "You want to meet for lunch or something?"

"I'm sorry, Ray, but I can't. However, I'll be home tonight just as soon as possible."

"Shift ends at six, right?"

"Yes."

"Call me before you leave to head home."

Ben tilted his head, studying him for a moment longer. "Might I ask why?"

"I want to have supper ready when you get here."

"You're cooking?"

Ray petted Ben's straight face and smiled, seeing the concern for his own stomach in his partner's eyes. "Lucky you. Mimi thinks I can't cook, either."

"Now, Ray, I never said –"

"You didn't have to. Besides, I've got taste buds, too, and they know bad from really bad. Anyway, I'm helping her sneak in a doghouse for part of Jeremy's Christmas present and she's paying me off with food. So, we're both lucky."

"Sounds like a fair trade. I'll call you as soon as I'm off shift then."

Ben stood up straighter and fetched his coat and hat, putting them on as he spoke. "I've added plenty of fuel to the fire and the screen's securely in place. Go back to sleep and rest. There's no reason for you to be up so early."

"Sounds like a plan." Ray pulled the covers back up around his neck, closing his eyes, and making a big show of going back to sleep. "I'll see you tonight. Love you."

Ben kissed his cheek again and whispered, "Love you, too."

As soon as Ben left and Ray heard the outside door click shut, he threw back the covers and headed out to the kitchen to put on some coffee. He had a long day ahead of him. He had projects to complete and a present to wrap and had no idea how he'd finish it all before Ben got home from protecting the city.

"Merry Christmas, doc."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Ray. You seem very cheerful today."

Ray paced around the room, grinning, jazzed up with the whole holiday spirit thing. Instead of getting defensive like he sometimes did when the guy commented on his wacky moods, he just went along with it. "Yeah, I'm cheerful. Tonight's our anniversary. This time last year, we exchanged rings, made promises. I mean, it's been a tough year. Our lives are completely different from before, but we're still together, still hanging in there. So, yeah, it's Christmas, too, but it's even more than that. It's like one great thing plus another great thing equals greatness."

Murphy smiled at his enthusiasm. "I take it you've made special plans?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Do any of those plans include an AA meeting?"

Ray stopped and stared, and shook his head, wondering how in hell the guy always found the one thing to needle him with and pop his fun time bubble. "Why do you always have to be such a wet blanket?"

"I'm honestly not trying to be negative, Ray. It's just that, as I mentioned before, holidays can sometimes be full of triggers. That's why I insisted on keeping the session despite the fact that it's Christmas Eve. It's important not to ignore the work you've done to maintain your sobriety and to continue your progress."

"Well, for your information, Mr. Killjoy, I went this morning."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I don't usually do morning meetings, but it was okay. Some of the guys from my usual meeting must have had the same idea because they were there, too."

"Does that make you feel more comfortable, seeing familiar faces?"

"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I went to an early meeting so I can just focus on me and Ben for a few days."

"Have you thought about drinking since our last session?"

Ray sat down in the chair across from Murphy and took off his red cap. He ran his right hand back and forth through his flattened hair to make it stand up just a little. "Some. I mean, I'm always thinking about it, off and on, but not as much as I used to, or at least not the same way. It's weird."

"What's weird?"

"When I think about it now, it's like I've got this off switch. I think about drinking and a little voice in my head says, don't fuck this up, don't go there."

"How is that different from before?"

"Before, I don't know, it was like when I thought about it, I felt kind of ticked off, pissed that Ben made such a big deal about it, angry that I couldn't drink and it not mean anything. I felt deprived or something. I guess I'm finally starting to realize that I'm really not like other people. To me, drinking is like taking poison. I just can't do it, not and keep my life with Ben. It's not worth the risk."

"That's a huge step, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. You're making really good progress."

"Thanks."

"You're the one doing the work."

"Yeah, but you listen. It helps." Ray snorted in amusement and scratched the back of his head.

"What's so funny?"

"I never thought I'd hear those words coming out of my mouth. I mean, me and a head jockey, not a good mix, but with you, it's different. I guess either you're really good at this shit or I just wasn't ready before."

"Oh, I'm sure it's the former. I really am that good."

Ray laughed out loud and sat back. "Modest much?"

"Seriously, Ray, no psychologist in the world can help someone who's resistant to therapy."

"Yeah, I get that now. Anyway, I'm doing pretty good at the moment."

"Any nightmares?"

Ray pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "A few, but not like before. They're not every night and I'm not sleepwalking anymore."

"When you say a few, what's that mean?"

"A couple last week, none this week."

"What were they about?"

Uneasy with the shift of conversation, Ray got up and walked to the window. Arms crossed tightly around his middle, he leaned against the frame. He still couldn’t remember all the details about his rape, but he could at least say the name out loud now. "Same thing as usual, Clooney."

"Tell me about the dream."

"I really don't want to."

"Ray –"

"I know talking helps. I get that, but I really don't want to, not today. I don't want to have that bastard in my head right now. Next time, okay?"

"Okay. I've told you before, I won't push if you're not ready."

"I'm not."

"Fine. So, how are you feeling about Ben's work? The last time we talked, you said you were still a bit anxious."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm about as good with that as I'm going to get. Every time he leaves, it might be the last time. I just have to live with it."

"Have you told Ben how you feel?"

"Ben loves being a Mountie. I'm not going to ask him to give that up so I can stop being freaked out every time he's a minute late. I'm just not going to do it. Right now things are really great between us. He's happy, I'm happy. I want to keep it that way."

"You say you're both happy. If that's true, why are you frowning when you say it?"

The guy was good. Ray hadn't even caught that what he was thinking and saying really didn't match. Ray returned to his chair and thought about it a few moments, his hand to his mouth. After about a minute, he laid out what had been bugging him for the last week or so. "Ben said something this time last year that I didn't get, but now I do."

"What'd he say?"

"He said that he always got worried when things were too good, like something bad was going to happen to mess things up. I mean, he didn't use those words, because he talks better than me, but that's the gist of what he said."

"Why do you think he believed that?"

"Because that's what had always happened before. Every time he thought he had something good, he got clobbered."

"And you're adopting that philosophy?"

"Adopting? No, but I get it now. I get why he was so afraid. This thing we have, it's the best thing I've ever had with anybody. I mean, I thought I had it with Stella, but that was nothing compared to this. Not to put what I had with Stella down, I don't mean that, I don't mean that all. My marriage, it was good, very good until the last couple of years. But I had all these hopes and dreams and then, bam, they were gone." Ray paused and took a deep breath, his chest tight, his eyes suddenly blurry. "This thing with Ben, though, it's powerful, like nothing I've ever felt before. What if it's too much? What if Ben does what Stella did, outgrows me, decides I'm more trouble than I'm worth? I don't know what I'd do if that happened."

"Has Ben said anything at all to make you think this is a rational fear?"

"Fear's not rational, that's why it's called fear, doc."

"True. But you didn't answer the question."

"No, it's nothing he's said or done. It's just my brain fucking with my head. Doesn't make me less panicky sometimes."

"Panicky? How so?"

"When he's at work, sometimes I get this feeling, this itchy, twitchy feeling, and I'll have to call just to make sure he's okay."

"And he's always okay?"

"Yeah, so far. I mean, I know it's clingy and needy, but I can't seem to stop. Plus, I get cabin fever being alone all day. I try to stay busy and work or I come into town. Mainly, I try not to think about it. I'm just relieved as hell every time he comes back home safe and sound, no new bullet holes or stab wounds."

"Have you thought about moving into town during the winter so you won't feel so alone?"

"Not an option."

"Why not?"

"Because our cabin's our home. I just get a little lonely if I'm there by myself all day, that's all, especially since it's dark most of the time now. Time just creeps along and feels like forever. I guess I'll get used to it."

"Perhaps you should think about making a different routine. You could work part of the day at your home and then come in for the other part. I know you mentioned at one point that you enjoyed working with your friend, Cal Tyler, in his shop. You could do that, or you could rent a studio space in town. Either of those ideas might be an option. You wouldn't feel so isolated and you could have some kind of social interaction."

"Yeah, I've thought about that. I could work on my book at Cal's instead of at home. It's something to think about."

"Good. Sometimes the long dark winters here are difficult. It's hard on a lot of people, even for people who've lived here all their lives. Give yourself time to adjust."

"Yeah, okay. I get that."

Murphy took a little beat and then asked, "Have you heard from your family at all?"

Startled at the quick shift, Ray sat up straighter and shook his head. "I don't expect to."

"Last week you told me that you'd called your mother, tried to mend fences you called it."

Ray gritted his teeth at the memory, his jaw clenched and his chest tighter. "And I told you my old man answered the phone and hung up when he heard it was me."

"How'd that make you feel?"

"How do you think? Pissed."

"Now that you've had time to calm down, did it make you feel anything else?"

Ray sighed and leaned forward, scrubbing his face with both hands. God, he was tired of being ticked off about that whole mess. "Sad. It made me feel really sad. My dad, he just doesn't get me and Ben. So, I guess I understand that, but now it's like I can't even talk to my mum without him stepping in, like he hates me so much that I can't talk to my own mother." Ray sat back up, his arms crossed. "She didn't send a Christmas card this year, either. It's the first time she's missed."

"That must hurt."

"Yeah, well, it's all about choices. She's made hers. He's her husband."

"And you're her son."

Ray met his doctor's gaze and shook his head. "Not in any way that it matters."

Securing the tarp around the doghouse wasn't as easy as Ray thought it would be. It took several longer ropes and extra ties, but in the end, he managed to get the thing covered so that Jeremy would have a hard time guessing what it was. To the casual observer, it just looked like a grey tarp over a pointy pile of firewood. In the morning, Mimi could sneak out and put a big red bow on it before they opened their other presents. Ray was just checking the last line when Mimi tapped him on the shoulder. "Come inside. I'll fix us some hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate? Sure, twist my arm."

Inside, Ray took off his parka, knit cap, and gloves, putting them on the washer in utility room where he'd come in from the fenced in backyard. He rubbed and blew on his hands to warm them up and danced around to get the feeling back in his feet. He grinned when Amelia woke up and looked up at him with a grumpy little Dief-face. He kneeled beside her bed to give her a good belly rub while she licked his cold hand a few times. When Ray stood up, she rolled back over and closed her sleepy eyes to finish her nap, like wolf, like daughter.

In the kitchen, he washed his hands while Mimi warmed the milk and cocoa on the stove. "I really appreciate you doing this, Ray."

"It's not a problem, well, unless I get a hernia. Then you can be my nursemaid."

Mimi's face pinked up a little and she shook her head, embarrassed. "I really didn't expect it to be that heavy."

"Hey, I'm just kidding. I'm stronger than I look. Besides, that just means it's sturdy."

"I know. Still, I appreciate it. It's handy to have a man around sometimes."

Just the way she said it, caught Ray off guard. He studied her a little closer, seeing the touch of sadness, the little extra crinkle around her dark eyes. That was the funny thing about Mimi. She was always so busy taking care of other people, Ray sometimes forgot about all the terrible things she'd been through with her late husband.

As he dried his hands on a dishtowel, she got the cups down along with a bag of mini-marshmallows. She really knew how to treat a guy. "Have a seat. You want some chocolate chip cookies?"

Ray checked out the clock and saw that it was already after 4 o'clock. That only gave him a couple of hours to finish up all the things he had left to do. "No, thanks. Ben should be home around 6:30 or 7 and I thought we'd eat then."

Mimi served the hot drinks and then sat down. "I've got the food ready to take with you. It's in the utility refrigerator. I packed –"

Ray raised a hand to stall her from giving away the menu. "Don't tell me. I want it to be a surprise."

Mimi grinned. "Surprises are good. All you have to do is heat it up."

"Thanks, Mimi."

"I couldn't let you spoil the evening by cooking, now could I?"

"Hardy ha ha ha. Funny lady."

"You know I could teach you to cook if you wanted."

"I can cook. I used to cook all the time in Chicago. It's that stupid wood stove. I mean, the temperature's all over the place, too hot, too cold. How's a guy supposed to cook anything without burning it to a crisp?"

"How does Ben do it?"

"He cooks with his nose."

"His nose?"

"Yeah, his nose. He says he can smell when something's done or not done. He knows just how much wood to put in it so it's hot enough, but not too hot."

"He had a whole lifetime to learn, eh?"

"What about you? You ever cook on one of those things?"

"Sure. When I was a kid. Never heard of a guy cooking with his nose before though, but it makes sense. Some people just have a feel for cooking. Ben has that."

"Yeah, you two have the knack, that's for sure. I'll leave the cooking to you and Ben and I'll stick to the eating part."

"If you ever change your mind, let me know. I could teach you a few tricks. Once you get the hang of it, it's like anything else. You get better."

Ray sipped his hot chocolate and shrugged. "Or you don't."

Mimi nodded with a chuckle. "True."

Ray added a few more marshmallows, but then got a little uneasy. It wasn't like Mimi to stare. "What?"

"You're a good man, Ray Kowalski. Ben's a lucky guy."

Ray wasn't sure where that came from. "Huh, thanks, I guess."

"Jeremy really likes you. He likes Ben, too."

"He's a good kid. You've done a great job."

"I've been lucky. I mean, after his father died, well, I was worried. He stopped talking for months and counseling didn't help. I don't know what I would've done if Ben hadn't been able to get through to him. Now, he just seems like a happy little boy."

Ray could tell she wanted to say more, so he prompted. "What's going on?"

Mimi met his eyes, her face more serious than he'd ever seen it. "I have a huge favor to ask. You don't have to answer right away. I want you to think about it carefully first."

Ray really wasn't sure if he wanted to know, but he had to ask, "What is it?"

"You know Susan has the twins and just got remarried. Now she's pregnant again. I know she has Aunt Grace to help, but still, she's got her hands full. I'd like to ask you and Ben if you'd be Jeremy's guardians if anything were to happen to me."

Shocked, Ray reached over and took her hand, suddenly afraid. "Are you all right? Are you sick?"

Mimi squeezed his hand right back and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Honest."

Ray put his free hand over his heart and took a deep breath. "You scared the shit out of me, woman."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just, I've been thinking about this for a while now. It's important to me. I know Susan would want him, but I don't think she'd be the best person to finish raising him, not when she's already got her own kids to deal with."

Ray swallowed hard as he considered what she was asking. "You're really serious? You really want me and Ben to take him?"

"If something happens, yes. If I get sick or die, he'll need somebody he already knows and trusts to help him through it. He has that with both of you."

Eyes stinging, Ray had to clear his throat several times before he answered, "I'm really honored. I'd love to say yes, but I can't, not until I talk to Ben."

"You think he'll have a problem with it?"

"I don't think so, but I have to ask."

She wrapped Ray's hand in both of her own. "I understand that. You talk to him, make sure that he's okay with the idea. I don't want either of you to do something you don't think would be right. But I hope you'll both agree to it and put my mind at rest."

"I'll talk to him tonight and let you know, okay?"

"Thanks, Ray."

Mimi released his hand and sat back. "You want some more hot chocolate?"

"No, thanks." Ray hesitated, but then asked, "Mimi, how come you're thinking about this now? Did something happen I don't know about?"

Mimi didn't answer right away, just got up and took her empty cup to the sink. When she did turn around, it still took her a couple of extra seconds to say anything. "It'll sound stupid."

"I doubt that. Let me hear it."

"You ever just get a gut feeling that you need to be ready for something, that something big's going to happen?"

The hairs on the back of Ray's neck stood up and he got goosebumps all up and down his arms. He worked hard to keep his voice steady. "You saying you're having one of those feelings about making arrangements for Jeremy?"

"I just feel like I need to be safer than sorry."

"But you're not sick and nothing specific's happened?"

"No. I just want to make sure that he's got a good home if something should happen."

Ray nodded, understanding completely. He got up and went to stand beside her at the sink, talking quietly. "You know when you become a cop, one of the first things they tell you is to get your life in order. I didn't really believe that at first. I thought they were just ragging on us, trying to see if we'd be freaked out or not. How bad could it be, right? After just a couple of days on the job, I went out and had a will made, even made arrangements for my own funeral. I never wanted Stella or my folks to ever have to worry about any of that. Seeing what I saw everyday, I realized how life can change on a dime, a drunk driver, a bullet out of nowhere. You just never know. So, I get it, I get what you're saying. I don't think being prepared for the worst is stupid at all."

"You don't think it's morbid?"

"I think it's smart."

"Thank you, Ray."

"And whatever happens, whether we take him or not, you don't have to worry. He'll be cared for. I'll see to that, no matter what."

Mimi put her arms around his middle and gave him a big hug. "Thank you."

Ray returned the embrace, his mind racing, hoping like hell he and Ben were on the same page about this. Ray never wanted anything to happen to Mimi, but if it did, he couldn't see himself letting the boy grow up anywhere but with him and his partner.

The fire crackled, warming the cabin and filling the place with a smoky scent mixed with the piney Christmas tree and the spices from all the food and drink. Fresh evergreens with a red bow covered the mantle and the tree stood in the corner decked out in all their handmade ornaments along with the long string of chili pepper lights Stella had sent from Chicago. Ben had laughed like a loon the first night he came home and saw them wrapped around the tree. Ray thought he might think the late addition was tacky, but instead Ben gave his approval, saying it was just the right touch.

Ray put jar candles here and there throughout the living room, but not too many. He knew Ben got a little freaked out with too many candles going all at once. That Victoria bitch had a lot to answer for. Still, Ray liked using candles for lighting instead of regular lamps to get the mood right, and that's what he was going for, the right mood. He had big plans for the evening, plans that included soft lights, the right music, and romance.

A pot of mulled cider simmered on the hot pot set up on the counter. He couldn't trust the damn woodstove not to boil it down to nothing in just a few minutes. Ben had liked the cider so much the day before that Ray got the recipe from Eddie so he could make some himself. Personally, Ray preferred a good cup of coffee, but it was nice to mix things up every now and again, make sure that routine didn't rear its ugly ass head too often. He wanted to spice things up, make it an anniversary and Christmas Ben would never forget.

Ray went into the bathroom, checking out his hair one more time, working it to make it stand up a little higher, just the way Ben liked it. He'd showered and shaved, put on his favorite jeans and a Christmas green cable knit sweater. Ray fingered the scar on his throat and cocked his head sideways as he leaned in closer to study it. Ben was right, it was less noticeable, not quite as red as before. Closing his eyes, Ray made a wish, hoping that before long nobody, including himself, would even see the damn thing.

Ben had called at 6:15 and said he'd be home by 7 o'clock, but it was a few minutes after that already. Ray went back out into the kitchen, wound up and nervous. Where the hell was he?

Ray checked the driveway again, but there was nothing, just his own truck sitting there, new snow dotting the red paint. He paced a while, sat in front of the fire, then got up and checked outside again. 7: 30 came and went. Ray got out his cell phone, but before he dialed, it rang. He clicked it on. "Ben?"

"Ray, I'm so sorry, but I'm running a bit late. The weather –"

"Never mind that. You okay?"

"I'm fine. I would, however, like you to sit on the sofa and close your eyes."

"Huh?" Ray suddenly heard Ben's jeep crunching snow in the driveway and the engine shut off. He looked out the back window and saw Ben sitting in the front seat, talking into his phone. "What the hell are you doing? What are you up to?"

"Bear with me, Ray. Please go sit down and close your eyes. I have something for you."

"And I have to close my eyes to get it?"

"It's a surprise."

"You're a surprise."

"I try."

Taking a deep breath, relieved his partner was okay, Ray grinned. He went over to the couch and sat down, the phone still at his ear. "Okay. I’m sitting down, eyes closed. Now what?"

"Be patient. I'm on my way inside. Please keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them."

"You really are a freak, you know that?"

"I've heard it said."

The line went dead, so Ray shut his phone off, too. It was the new one Ben gave him right after the whole Watson fiasco, small and easy to lose. Ray put it on the side table, all the time keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He heard the door open and close. "Ben?"

"Hi, Ray."

"You have a good day?"

"I had a long day. Eyes closed?"

"Yep."

Ray listened carefully for clues as Ben took off his hat and coat. A kitchen chair scraped the floor as Ben must have dropped them over its back. There was a rustling of cloth and a strange sound Ray didn't recognize, sort of like Ben put something on the floor, but it wasn't a box or anything hard. It had to be something soft that made a scratching and snuffling sound. What the hell? Ray was baffled.

When Ben finally settled on the sofa beside him, Ray asked, "Is this some kind of kinky new thing? You want to order me to keep my eyes closed while –"

"Merry Christmas, Ray. Open your eyes now."

The first thing Ray saw was Ben's smile. The second thing made him grin like an idiot. "Oh my god!" He gave Ben a quick hug and kiss. "For me?"

"Completely for you."

Scooting off the couch, Ray kneeled in front of the little white pup that lay on a red blanket. Ray petted and ruffled his fur, beaming so hard his face hurt. "Hey there, little fella! I thought you were sold to the dogsled guy."

"Well, Cal mentioned how much you liked this particular pup, so I thought –"

"You'd get him for me?"

"I thought he could be a good companion while Dief and I are at work."

Ray could hardly believe it. He drew the pup into his lap, the little guy easily rolling on his back and letting him rub his belly. "What a big sneak. I never had a clue. I thought for sure I'd never see him again."

Ben came off the sofa and sat cross-legged beside him as Ray played with the pup. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted a dog of your own?"

Ray glanced over at Dief, who lay by the fire watching him hold his son. "I guess I thought two Diefs would be too much for one cabin."

Dief answered with an irritated woof and got up. He padded closer, first licking Ray's face, and then licking his pup several times. He nuzzled the youngster and then lay down again, staring at Ray with what looked like a Ray's a dumbass face.

Ben gave Dief's fur a thorough rub, smiling. "I do believe he's given his approval of the arrangement, Ray. Granted, having two large dogs, especially males, in the same domicile might normally lead to problems. However, I don't believe that will be the case here. Besides, Diefenbaker isn't here during the day. The pup might make your life easier while I'm away."

Ray wrapped an arm around Ben's neck and drew him closer, giving him a big kiss. "I love you."

"And I, you."

The pup whimpered and Ray let him off his back, putting him back down on his blanket. "You're a good looking pup, Rufus."

"Rufus?"

"Yeah, that's his name."

"Why Rufus?"

"Why not?"

"Why not, indeed."

"I mean, he just looks like a Rufus, kind of laid back and easy going."

Ben studied the pup for a moment and then nodded his agreement. "He does seem rather like a beta dog."

"Beta dog?"

"Believe me, Ray, that's a good thing. If he were a potential alpha like the male Cal sold to Mr. Tate, then he'd be much more difficult to train."

"Okay, I get that. He'd be like Dief, right?"

"Diefenbaker would likely be considered an alpha if he were in an actual wolf pack. As it is, he's beta to my alpha, or at least that's the dynamic I work to achieve. I fear sometimes he appears to believe it's the reverse."

Dief yipped his opinion and Ben rolled his eyes. "He knows that."

"Who knows what?"

Ben smiled and met Ray's gaze. "He says you're pack, too."

Ray grinned back. "I damn well better be."

"Diefenbaker often has difficulty with understanding the complexities of human dynamics."

"Join the club."

"So he tends to reduce things to a simpler level, that of the wolf pack."

"Leader and followers duke it out and let the big dog run the show. Makes sense." Ray nodded as he continued to pet Rufus who was chewing on a rawhide bone Ben must have given him to keep him happy. "I get that. It's just we take turns doing the alpha thing. I guess in a real pack, we couldn't do that, huh?"

"No, we couldn't."

"We make our own pack rules then. Works for me."

Ben leaned over and captured his lips, slipping his tongue in for a quick taste and then pulling back. "It works for me as well, Ray."

Ray kissed him back and then caressed his face, thumbing his whiskery cheek. "You hungry?"

"Starved."

"Good, because Mimi packed us a meal you wouldn't believe. Why don't you change out of the Mountie suit and we'll eat?"

"I'd love to, Ray. Thank you."

Ray kissed Ben again before he let him get up. As Ben walked into the bedroom, Ray leaned over and buried his face into Rufus's soft fur. "Welcome to your new home, Ruf buddy."

The pup twisted around, nipping Ray's nose and then licking his face, leaving baby wolf slobber all over. Ray spat and sputtered, but giggled the whole time.

While Ben changed, Ray got Rufus settled and then went to wash his hands before serving up supper. As he dried them off, his cell phone rang. Frowning, wondering who the hell would be calling on Christmas Eve, he went over and answered it. "Yeah?"

"Stanley?"

The world tilted a little. "Mum?"

"Oh, Stanley, is that really you?"

Stunned to hear his mother's voice, Ray sat down on the sofa and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, rocking while he talked, his voice thin and a little unsteady. "Yeah, it's me, Mum."

"It's good to hear your voice, Son."

"Yours, too."

A long pause broke the conversation before she said, "Your father didn't tell me you'd called last week."

"Sounds like him."

"I was really angry. He had no right to do that. You're my son, Stanley. I know we've had our differences, but it's Christmas and I had to call."

"I'm glad you did."

"I tried calling the other number I had, but it didn't work. I called Stella and got the new one. I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Mum."

There was another long pause before she asked, "Are you okay, Stanley? You sound different."

All choked up, Ray cleared his throat, determined not to cry. "I'm fine, Mum. I'm just glad to hear from you. I didn't get a card this year and I thought maybe –"

"That'd I'd given up on you like your father?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I love you, Stanley, I always wil. It doesn't matter to me who you live with. I just wish you lived closer. I miss seeing you and ironing your shirts. If you were here, I'd fix you and your Constable friend a big turkey dinner with all the trimmings. I'd fix that chocolate pie you like so much, too."

"And what about Dad?"

"He can fix his own darn dinner if he's too good to eat with me and my son."

Ray laughed and brushed away a tear with the back of his hand. "Thanks, Mum. I really miss you, too."

"I can't talk long. We're going to mass, but I just wanted to wish you and your friend Merry Christmas. Tell him I said that, I mean it."

"I will. Merry Christmas, Mum."

"I love you, Stanley. I always will."

"I love you, too, Mum."

"I have to go now. Your father's out in the car, warming it up. I'll try to call again soon after New Years."

The phone clicked off and Ray pulled it away from his ear, stared at it, and then put it on the side table. Ben came from the doorway and sat down beside him. "Your mother's well, I hope."

"You heard?"

"Part of it."

"Son of a bitch didn't even tell her I'd called."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

Shaking his head, Ray took a deep breath and then grinned. "Doesn't matter. My mum's still my mum. She said to tell you Merry Christmas, by the way."

"That was kind."

"She still refers to you as my friend."

"I'm sure that's much preferable to the things your father might call me."

"Or me."

They sat there for an extra long beat before Ray stood up and pulled Ben to his feet. "Come on. Let's eat. I'm starving."

Sitting at the table, stuffed with caribou steaks, butter squash casserole, green beans, and homemade biscuits, Ray sat back and rubbed his belly. "God, she must think a whole hockey club lives here."

"She does prepare rather large portions."

"I'm going to need bigger clothes soon."

Ben chuckled and shook his head. "Not likely, Ray. You've gained back a few pounds, yes, but you're still far from needing a larger size."

"Tell that to my belt."

"Actually, I think you look better with the additional weight, healthier."

"Thanks, but I'm still filled to the gills."

"Would you like coffee?"

"Yeah, coffee's good. I think I'm going to let the food settle a little bit before I tackle the monster brownies she sent."

"Wise idea, Ray. I, too, think dessert would be better left to a later time."

As Ben got up to get the coffee, Ray asked, "Did you talk to Renny today?"

"I did, yes. I gave him the name of a good lawyer here in Yellowknife as well as one in Chicago. Either should be able to help him with his project since they both specialize in that area."

"That's good. He's been torn up about the whole thing."

"I know."

Ray moved to the sofa and Ben served him his coffee there. Then Ben sat beside him with his tea. Ray asked, "What do you think about his plan to use the money Peter left him for setting up a charity?"

"I think it's a very noble notion."

"Yeah, me, too. I don't think Stevie thinks that though."

Ben frowned and nodded, considering Ray's words carefully, sipping his tea a little before he said anything else. "Stevie has his own concerns, Ray. He's worked very hard to support his mother and sister since he was a teenager. I supposed he sees Renny's inheritance as an opportunity to secure all their futures during worrisome economic times."

"What do you think?"

"I think he's an extremely hard worker and perceptive young man. I also know that he loves Renny. Eventually, Stevie will see that Renny has to make his own decision about the money."

"You think they'll break up over it?"

Solemn, Ben took an extra moment and then shook his head. "One never knows about such things, but I don't think so. They love each other. The money shouldn't be a factor. I'd be very disappointed if that happened."

"It's happened for less."

"Certainly true."

"I hope they work it out."

"Agreed."

After drinking about half his coffee, Ray put his cup down. He couldn't put it off any longer. "I talked to Mimi today. She asked me about something, something important. I want you to hear me out before you say anything, okay?"

Ben frowned and put his own cup down as well, turning to meet Ray's intense gaze. "I'm listening."

"First off, she's okay, she's not sick or anything."

Confused, Ben cocked his head sideways as he studied Ray more closely. "Why would I think she was ill?"

"Well, she's not. I'm just saying that upfront so you don't jump to wild conclusions like I did and get scared or something."

"Why on earth would –"

"Just listen."

"I am listening, Ray."

"No, you're not. You're interrupting."

"Very well, I'm sorry. Please continue. Mimi's not sick."

"No, but she's been thinking about stuff, serious stuff, like when you die stuff. You know Susan's remarried and pregnant again, right? Well, that along with dealing with the twins and working as a nurse, she's pretty busy, way too busy to take on another kid, especially a teenaged brother. So, Mimi wanted to know if anything happened to her, would we be willing to take Jeremy, you know, to raise. Me, I think it's a great idea. I mean, I'm not saying I want anything to happen to Mimi. I don't. Jesus, that would be awful. I'm just saying we could be her safety net, be there if something did happen. I know it's a big thing, a huge responsibility, but I think we should do it. Say yes."

Ben looked at him, his eyes just a little wider, but he didn't say anything at all, not a word. Ray touched his shoulder and squeezed. "You can talk now."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Just like that, no discussion, no niggling, no listing everything that could go wrong?"

"I think it's a good idea, Ray. So, yes, let her list us as his guardians in case of emergency. I think it's only prudent to do so."

Surprised as hell, Ray shook his head hard several times to wake himself up, 'cause he had to be dreaming. "I didn't expect that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just didn't. I worked up a ton of stuff in my head to convince you, but now I don't need it. Feels weird."

"As you point out, Ray, neither of us wants or expects anything to happen, but we both know all too well how quickly life can change. There's nothing wrong with being prepared for all contingencies. Besides, I'm rather fond of the boy as I know you are yourself."

Ray scooted closer, his face just a few inches from Ben's. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being you, for giving me the best Christmas ever."

Ben kissed him, his tongue slipping in, taking its sweet time before he pulled back. "It's not quite over."

"Hell, no, it's not." Ray hooked the back of Ben's neck and pulled him back in for another hot kiss. Then his head dropped back and Ben went to town on his throat, growling his horny growl as he nibbled and kissed Ray's skin. Ben's hand slipped down between Ray's legs, rubbing at his erection through the jeans. Ray did his own thing, too, wrestling with the Henley, pulling it up and out of the way to get to bare skin.

Ben pushed Ray down on the sofa, rubbing his body against Ray's, moaning, moving faster, grunting and stiffening as he came suddenly. Ray held on tight as Ben jerked in his arms. After a few seconds, Ben's head rested on Ray's shoulder, his breathing way too fast, his face scarlet. Running his fingers through Ben's hair, Ray teased, "You in a hurry to set a new speed record there, Mountie?"

"Dear god, Ray, I'm so sorry. I just –"

"Shut up. It's okay."

Ben lifted his head, sweat pouring down the side of his face, his pupils still huge. His tongue darted out to swipe his lower lip. "It most certainly is not okay."

Ray cupped the side of Ben's face, his thumb teasing that bottom lip as he whispered, "Then do something about it."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Might be. Think you can handle it?"

Ben didn't bother to answer, but captured Ray's mouth again, this time hard and possessive, stealing Ray's breath away. Brain cells went bye-bye as Ben's hands got busy, sliding over and exploring Ray's body, tweaking his nipples. Ben arched up just high enough to get Ray's zipper down and his jeans out of the way. Then Ben opened his own pants, lining up their crotches. Ben took his time, shoving his hips and rubbing their dicks together, his skin blazing hot. Ben might have come already, but that didn't make much of a difference. Every touch wound Ray just a little higher, a little closer to getting off.

Arms wrapped around Ben's middle, Ray squeezed his eyes shut, working to keep breathing, his head whirling in bright colors. Their bodies rocked together as Ray's inner spring coiled tighter. One final shove sent him flying, his mind exploding into leaping flames of pleasure that licked every part of his body, sent his dick into orbit. As he came, Ben held him down, forced him to release against his body. Trembling bliss painted Ray's mind with every color in the book and then some.

By the time Ray caught his next breath, Ben kissed him again harder, breathing hot air into his mouth between sucking on his tongue and moaning sweet Ray's between the shudders.

Minutes, hours, decades later, Ray opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his body not quite his body yet. "Jesus, Ben, you trying to kill me for Christmas or what?"

Ben chuckled, licking and then kissing his chin. "I assure you, that wasn't my intention." Then he settled down, his face resting on Ray's chest. "I suppose we should clean up before we open the presents."

"I think I need a nap first."

"A nap?"

"To get my strength back."

"You want to nap here?"

"With you as a blanket? Sure, why not?"

"Why not, indeed."

Ray listened to the crackle of the fire and then heard the snuffling whimpering sound of little Rufus. He turned his head and saw the pup going in circles and sniffing the floor near his blanket. "Oh, crap."

"Ray?"

"I think Rufus has to go."

Ben made no move to get up. "You should hurry."

"You could do it."

"He's your dog."

"Come on. It's Christmas. We're supposed to share."

Ben still didn't move. "We could let Diefenbaker take him out."

"Still have to get up to open the door."

With a heavy sigh, Ben finally shifted and sat up, running a hand through his messy hair and looking more than a little well-fucked and hot, his dick still hanging out of his pants. "You pay and you pay and you pay."

After Rufus finished his business and Ray thawed out, Ray sat on the sofa, all shivery. A white Christmas might be pretty, but it was colder than shit out and that did nothing to stop Ray's bones from aching deep down where it counted. Not to mention that Ray discovered just how hard it was to keep up with a white puppy when there was nothing but snow and darkness for miles around. Jeez, it was going to be a hell of a long winter. Still, seeing Rufus curled up next to Dief, snoozing away, melted his heart just a little bit.

Ben held out a cup of fresh coffee. "Here, drink this. I think I'll take a quick shower before we open our presents."

Suddenly alert, Ray shook his head. "No shower."

Startled, Ben asked, "No shower?"

"No, no shower. Just clean up a little and get back here. You can take a shower later."

Ben studied him a few moments longer, amused. "Might I ask why you don't want me to shower?"

"Nope."

"It's a secret then?"

"Look, I'm not saying you can't take a shower, Ben, just not right this minute, okay? Trust me."

Ben's expression softened, his voice more hushed. "I do trust you, Ray."

"Good, so hurry up and get back here."

After Ben left, Ray drank his coffee and then took the cup to the sink. Ben had already done the dishes and cleared the table while he'd been out with Rufus. Ray heard the water running in the bathroom and he smiled to himself. He loved teasing Ben with a little mystery now and then, distracting him with wondering what Ray had up his sleeve. It was that little extra something that kept things more interesting, made Ray look forward to pushing the limits just a little bit more each night when they hit the sack. Ray went to the sofa and sat down. He leaned back and just relaxed, staring at the fire and the tree, hoping that Ben liked all the gifts headed his way before morning.

By the time Ben settled back down beside him, Ray grinned even wider. "You shaved."

"You didn't say I couldn't shave, Ray."

"No, you're right, I didn't." Ray reached over and cupped Ben's face, loving the smoother skin, the tough day's growth of whiskers gone to beard heaven. "You ready for presents?"

Ben captured Ray's hand at his face and then kissed the palm. "You do realize, Ray, that traditionally presents are opened on Christmas morning."

"Yeah, I heard that somewhere, but we started our own Kowalski-Fraser tradition last year, remember? We do it on Christmas Eve. You know how I am about waiting for stuff."

Ben smiled wider, chuckling. "Oh, I know all too well. So, would you like to go first?"

"I already did. I got Rufus."

"So, you did."

Ray got up and brought their presents over to the sofa, putting them on the coffee table. He held out a large flat one wrapped in brown paper that had been dotted with red and green splatters of paint. "This one first."

"From you?"

"Yeah, open it."

Taking his time, trying to save the paper, Ben unwrapped his present carefully. When he took out the picture, his eyes widened in surprise and wonder. "Dear Lord, Ray, it's beautiful."

"You really like it?"

"I love it." Ben got up and put the picture on the mantle's center. "It's perfect, absolutely perfect."

"I just thought we needed a family portrait. Didn't know about Rufus yet. Guess I'll have to make a little picture of him to put beside it."

Still staring at the watercolor painting of Ben, Ray, and Dief standing together in front of the cabin, Ben spoke quietly. "It is, indeed, a family portrait, Ray. You never cease to amaze me with your talent."

"So, you really like it, huh?" He wasn't fishing for compliments, not really. Ray just never saw what others saw when they looked at his work and he just needed to hear it wasn't just some crap painting any two-year-old could do. Deep down, he knew he wasn't awful, but he never really got how others thought he was that good, either. "You're not just saying that to be nice?"

Ben sat next to Ray on the sofa, draping his arm around his shoulder before kissing his cheek. "I love it. I love you. Thank you."

Ray relaxed, relieved and believing every word. "You're welcome."

"Your turn, Ray."

Ray reached for the big box from Mimi and Jeremy. "This is to both of us. You want to open it or should I?"

"You do it."

"Sure thing." Ray ripped the paper while Ben picked it up and tried to smooth it out. "Would you stop that. It's just paper. Half the fun is tearing it off."

"But –"

"No buts."

Ben hesitated and then grinned, surrendering to Ray's enthusiasm. He made a paper ball and tossed it over his shoulder. "As you wish."

Ray opened the box, and then threw his head back with a big laugh. He pulled out a ski lodge style sweater exactly like the one Mimi had made for Ben, only a size smaller. "Hey, we match. We must be a couple."

Ben chuckled, too, as he checked out the sweater more closely. "So it would seem. Her knitting ability is quite advanced. We should wear them to the party tomorrow to show our appreciation."

"Works for me." Inside the box was the rest of the present. Ray picked up the notebook and read the cover. Then he handed it to Ben. "I'm pretty sure this one's for you."

Ben took the book and then shook his head with amazement. "It's a copy of her private cookbook, filled with all her secret recipes. Oh, this is delightful, Ray."

"You're telling me. I get to be the taste tester."

As Ben skimmed the pages of the notebook, caught up in reading recipes, Ray saw the card still in the box. It was addressed to both of them. He opened it, read it, and then handed it to Ben. "Check it out. Look what Jeremy gave us."

Ben nodded in approval. "This will no doubt be quite helpful."

"Thirty hours of free dog sitting services and slave labor? Hell, yeah. Wonder if he'll be free to walk Rufus in the middle of the night later."

"Not likely, but it will be useful when you're in town or if we need other chores done around the cabin."

Ray put the card on the side table and placed his sweater back in the box for tomorrow. "He's a good kid, that's for sure. I hope he liked the model plane we got him."

"I'm sure he will, since Mimi told me that's the model he's been talking about nonstop since October. However, we'll no doubt find out tomorrow."

Ben handed him another box. "This is from Renny to you."

"Just to me, not to the both of us?"

"There's another one to both of us, but this one is only to you."

Ray took the small box and opened it, wondering what the hell it could be. When he took off the lid, he couldn't breathe. Finally, he lifted the familiar keys and fisted his fingers around them.

Ben touched his arm. "Ray, what is it?"

"The keys to the GTO."

"Really?"

Opening the note card attached to the outside of the box, Ray read it out loud.

"Dear Ray,

Once the estate is settled, I wish you to have your beloved classic car. I'm sure it's what Peter would have wanted. In the meantime, here are the keys for safekeeping.

Merry Christmas,

Renny."

Ben gave Ray a quick, little hug. "That was incredibly thoughtful."

Ray stared at the keys in his hands again, still stunned. He never thought he'd ever see the Goat again. "Yeah, it was, it is. I can't believe it."

"Well, he's right, you know. I think Peter would have wanted you to have the car back."

"Yeah, maybe." Suddenly sad at the terrible loss of Peter, at the stupid waste of life, Ray stood up and put the keys in his pocket. "I need a break."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah… no, not really. Give me a minute."

"Certainly."

Ray went to the bathroom, closed the door, and then leaned over the sink. After a few moments, he turned on the water and splashed his face with cold water. It stung, but it helped control his tears. He hated being so damn sentimental sometimes. After he got himself together, he went back into the living room to find Ben waiting for him. "Sorry about that."

"It's quite all right, Ray. You were very attached to the car. It's no wonder you're relieved to have it back."

"It's not about the car."

"No?"

"No, I was just thinking about the whole thing with Peter and Watson, and how stupid it was, how I wish it could've been different. Then I got to thinking about my dad and about how now I have the car again, but no old man. It all just hit me wrong, that's all."

"Understood."

Ray settled on the sofa next to Ben again, took a deep breath, and patted Ben on the thigh. "Didn't mean to put a damper on the night. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Ray. You're reaction is quite normal under the circumstances."

To cheer himself up again, Ray reached for the present from Renny and Stevie and handed it to Ben. "Here. Hope it's not a cheese ball."

"Now, Ray, one can never have too many cheese balls."

"Yeah, if you're Renny. I'm sure he's going to love that Cheese of the Month thing we gave him."

"Oh, I’m sure he will, though I can't say the same for Stevie."

"Serves him right for hooking up with a Mountie cheese freak."

Still smiling, Ben opened the box and snorted. Ray took it from him and started laughing, too. "I always knew he was a nut."

"So it would seem."

"I'm not drinking all that tea, no way, no how."

Ben held up the flashy brochure and read the description of their subscription to the Teas of the World Club with a teasing lilt. "A brilliant new blend delivered to one's door every month throughout the next twelve months. It's a marvelous way to try new and different flavors of one of the world's oldest drinking pleasures."

"Yeah, right. Me, I'll stick to the coffee."

"Now, Ray, you can at least try something different."

"Hey, I married a Mountie. That should count for something."

Ben's voice mellowed and he leaned over, forehead to forehead. "It does, indeed, count for a great deal."

"Good, because tea sucks. I don't know how you guys drink that stuff."

Still amused by Ray's reaction, Ben pulled his leg some more. "Perhaps with our new membership, you'll find at least one blend that pleases you."

"Yeah, maybe, but don't hold your breath." Ray picked up a heavy, square box and read the tag. "From Chris and Eddie."

"You open that one, Ray."

Ray didn't need a lot of persuasion. He was wondering what that pair would come up with. He tore off the green paper ribbon and unwrapped the red burlap. When he took off the lid, he smiled. "Wow. Nice."

"What is it?"

"Check it out." Ray lifted the bluish grey sculpture which was about a foot long and about 8 inches high. "Looks like a wolf."

"It is, indeed, a wolf, Ray, carved out of soapstone." Ben picked it up, running his hands over the ultra smooth surface before checking the bottom to read the label. "This was done by a local aboriginal artist. I don't recognize the name, but it's a lovely piece."

Ray studied it some more, the proportions a bit odd and primitive, but something about it moved him, made him think of Dief and his cousins running wild in the woods, howling and chasing down more than rabbits. "You know, sculpture doesn't usually turn my crank, but this one really does it for me. I like it."

"Me, too."

"Bet Eddie picked it out."

"Perhaps, but it was Chris who mentioned the artist to me before."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. A few months ago, I was admiring the polar bear sculpture they had on the mantle. I said then how much I liked it. He told me she's got a shop in town."

"Next chance we get, we'll check it out."

"Indeed." Ben got up and placed the wolf on the hearth and then sat back down.

"Looks good. Now I feel bad I only gave them a painting."

"Ray, they'll love your painting. I'm sure of it."

"Hope so." Ray rubbed his hands. "Now. What else we got?"

"There's the one from Cal. It's the last one."

"Let me do it." He'd given Cal a whole picture album of candid shots of his kids, all taken with his wife's help when Cal wasn't looking. When Ray opened the present, he smiled as he took out the book with a small collection of signed prints by Jim Brandenburg. "Oh, this is great. I love this guy's stuff."

"An excellent choice then."

"Oh, yeah. I hope to be as good as him someday."

"I think you're just as good now, Ray."

"Yeah, well, you're prejudiced. You like everything I do."

Ben kissed his temple and shrugged in surrender. "Guilty."

Ray put the book down and sighed deeply with contentment, something that had been a long time coming, something that had nothing to do with the material gifts they'd opened. "We've got good friends, Ben, and I'm not just saying that because they gave us cool stuff."

"I agree. We're very blessed with our friendships, Ray."

"They've been there through tough times." Ray met Ben's gaze. "I don't think I could've made it without them after you were shot. I almost fell apart. Hell, I did fall apart in some ways."

"We both needed help, Ray. Without them there to support us, we'd have had a very difficult time surviving the trials of the last year."

"But we did survive, we hung in there, and didn't let the bastards win. We actually made it through."

"Yes."

Ray closed his eyes, pushing away the rush of violent images trying to ruin his good feeling. Ray took a deep, calming breath and let Ben hold him for several long minutes before he spoke again. "I think you should get a shower now."

"A shower? You want me to take a shower right this minute?"

"Yeah, go get a shower." Ray turned his head and kissed him before he whispered, "Hop to it. It's our anniversary and I've got something special planned and one more thing for you to unwrap."

Ben didn't have to be told twice to get himself all clean and shiny so Ray could make him all messy again.

While Ben got cleaned up, Ray hurried and changed. He went into the bedroom, taking off his clothes, but then putting on the red union suit. Only he didn't button it up, just left the front open. Then he draped a plaid blanket over the back of the straight back rocker in front of the fireplace. He sat down and took a deep breath, closing his eyes, thinking about Ben all wet and slick from the shower. He slipped a hand down between his legs and got the party started, stroking himself, letting his dick get harder with each thought of Ben's mouth, his tongue licking him in all the right places. His dick throbbed in his hand and Ray shuddered in anticipation. The water turned off and Ray heard Ben getting out of the shower. Putting his hands behind his head, Ray opened his eyes to see Ben standing in the doorway, just a towel around his waist, staring at him in surprise.

"Like what you see, Mountie?"

"Dear Lord, Ray, what are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"Incredibly, it looks like you've opened my last present without me."

"Still some unwrapping to do." His hands still behind his head, still looking cocky as hell, Ray grinned wider. "Come on, time to finish what I started."

Ben dropped his towel right in the doorway, didn't even bother to pick it up or fold it. He kneeled between Ray's legs, pushing them a little further apart, his eyes on the prize. Then he lifted his head, gazing at Ray's face then scanning his whole body before meeting Ray's eyes again. The words came out all breathy and sexy as hell. "You're so beautiful, Ray."

Ray reached out, cupping Ben's face, thumbing his cheek. "You like me for my mind, too, though, right?"

Ben grinned at his teasing, but then leaned in, pressing a palm against Ray's chest and then licking a trail down Ray's belly to his pubes. Ray's grin vanished as his breath caught in his throat. "Sweet Jesus." Ray threw his head back as Ben used one hand to tease his left nipple and the other to hold his dick steady. Then his mouth slipped over the tip, using his lips and tongue to increase the pressure before taking in more. Slick heat swallowed him whole and Ray's head swam with sparking colors, lots of reds and greens, Christmas colors as Ben sucked his dick, taking his time, sliding up and down. Ray's fingers tangled in Ben's thick hair as Ben's head bobbed up and down. Pressure rose up through Ray's middle, the delicious heat of being almost there, near the edge, but every time he nearly made it, Ben eased up just enough to keep him from coming.

Ray complained, his voice shaky and hoarse. "Ben, please."

But Ben didn’t answer right away, just kept gobbling up his cock, making him crazy until Ray, drenched in sweat, his body trembling with want, hissed out, "Ben… Ben… Ben…" over and over like a chant.

Finally, Ben stopped and released him, lifting his head. Ben's lips were bright red and swollen, still slippery and wet, his voice like rusty music. "Ray, please, in the bed."

"I don't think I can move."

Strong arms got Ray to his feet just long enough to flop on the bed, the covers already turned back. Ben worked like a demon to get the red suit off, to get Ray naked, too. Then he pushed Ray on his back, his legs still off the side of the bed, his ass just at the edge. Ray knew what was coming, but he still wasn't prepared for it, not completely. Ben's mouth on his dick again and a slippery finger slipping inside his ass. It always shocked him when Ben did that, sent a lightning bolt up his middle by touching that hot spot inside him. Ray jerked with pleasure, but still Ben didn't let him get off, still sucked his dick just enough to keep him going, but not enough to finish.

Turned on like nobody's business, Ray decided to thrust and Ben took it all, deep into his throat like hot velvet. Ray fucked Ben's face while Ben finger fucked his ass. It took on a heady rhythm, like a dance, but not a dance, something better, something like Ray never had before. A sudden jolt hit him, punched him all over at once as Ben shoved in two fingers instead of one, sucking his dick completely inside at the same time. Ray screamed with coming, his whole body shaking, like the hand of God just reached down and zapped him with nothing but good stuff. Every nerve, every cell glowed in the dark, sparkled, and fainted all at the same time. It hurt so much, but not at all, like he couldn't tell the difference, but he could. Ray's eyes leaked, big tears running down the side of his face as he shuddered, his body still out to lunch and taking its time to come back to normal.

Ben didn't help, his hands rubbing Ray's inner thighs, his tongue taking up the slack between touches. Finally, Ben draped himself over Ray and then kissed him, his tongue still tasting like Ray. He heard Ben whisper, "I love you so much."

Arms still weak, Ray wrapped them around Ben, holding him in place. "Give me some time and I'll do you the same favor."

"Not necessary. I've already had my release."

Ray snorted and shook his head. "You get off sucking me off, huh?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Lucky me."

"Lucky me, too, Ray." He kissed Ray again and then took a deep breath, his head resting just under Ray's chin. "We should clean up quickly and get under the covers."

Ray squeezed Ben's middle. "I've got my cover."

Ben chuckled and then lifted his head, his eyes staring into Ray's. "Are you happy, Ray?"

"You nearly took my head off with the best blowjob in the world. You have to ask?"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about in general, about our life here, our life together. Are you happy?"

Ray studied Ben's serious face, saw the flicker of doubt. "You really don't know?"

"It's just –"

"Just what?"

When Ben didn't answer, couldn’t explain, Ray pushed him off so that Ben rolled onto his back. Ray shifted over into the bed, reaching out a hand to draw Ben next to him and Ben didn't resist at all, just let Ray take the lead.

Sitting side by side, leaning back against the pillows, Ray pulled the covers up over their laps. He knew Ben's head was probably spinning because he was such a stickler sometimes about cleaning up afterwards, but he didn't care. This couldn’t wait until Mr. Clean got a wash cloth and tidied up. "Listen to me, Ben."

"I'm listening."

"I'm happy, happier than I've ever been, and I'm not just talking about sex here."

Ben took his hand, held it, and squeezed it. "I'm happy, too, Ray. Sometimes I'm so happy, it scares me."

There it was, out in the open, finally. "I get that."

"You do?"

"Sure I do. It's good between us and that's scary as hell because we've both had our hearts stomped. That happens, it makes a guy twitchy when the real thing, a good thing, comes along. Makes you wonder when the boom's going to be lowered, when you're going to get your head kicked in."

Ben took an extra second to process the words, but then he relaxed and smiled. "That's it exactly, Ray. I suppose being so sure before and then being betrayed, it's only natural we'd have trust issues."

"But we're working on that, baby-stepping our way through it, right? I mean, I know we're both a little fucked up, fucked up enough that we both still need shrinks and meetings and shit, but we're working on it, and that's what counts, that's what matters." Ray turned his body on his side and then scooted down in the bed, under the covers. Ben followed, allowing Ray to pull him into an embrace, their bodies lined up, Ben's ass nestled against Ray's crotch, his back to Ray's chest. Ray's arms wrapped around Ben's neck from behind. He kissed the side of Ben's throat as he whispered, "We're good. We can be happy without the sky falling in."

"You're sure about that?"

Ray took a minute, wanted to be completely truthful, no little white lie to make it all better. "Yeah, I'm sure. What about you? You sure yet?"

"I'm trying, Ray, I really am. It's just that experience has taught me that when I'm the surest, that's when I'm most likely to receive the harshest lesson of all." Ben shivered in his arms, snuggling in even closer to Ray.

It tore him up, made Ray's heart ache when he heard Ben talk like that, like he'd been clobbered so many times, he might never trust again, ever, not even when it came to what they had together. "Look, I know it's not easy. Believe me, I get that. But, you know what, that whole one day at a time stuff they talk about in meetings can help with that. Sure, you might not be able to believe you're going to be happy forever. I mean, who can? But you can believe for today, for now, with just the two of us. Grab that. Make it real for now and stop thinking so damn hard all the time, Ben. Nobody's got a promise for the future, but there's now." Ray tightened his embrace, gave Ben another quick kiss on the side of his face, and whispered, "But we've got happy for now. Enjoy it. Enjoy me."

Ben turned in his arms, facing him. Using both hands, he captured Ray's face. "I do love you, Ray. I am happy, happier than I can ever remember."

"Me, too."

Ray kissed him then, pushing Ben back against the pillow, wrestling their tongues together. Belly to belly, Ray rubbed himself a few times and then lifted his head. All breathy, he whispered, "I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you no matter what. You good with that?"

This time there was no hesitation, no doubt, just misty blue eyes staring back, one tear sliding down Ben's cheek. "I'm very good with that, Ray."

"Good, because now it's your turn, ready or not."

Ben chuckled and then shuddered in Ray's arms and it was Ray's turn to turn the tables, to make sure that Ben got everything he ever wanted, ever could want. For the first time, Ray understood that old saying about giving being better than receiving. Pleasing Ben, loving Ben was the best gift he'd ever gotten, ever wanted to get. Every prayer should start with a kiss and Ray knew with all his heart that their now would last forever.

The End


End file.
